


Imperfect Proposals

by Fallen_Angel_Meg



Series: Imperfect Proposals [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Proposal Fusion, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Architect Castiel, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Top Dean, architect!Dean, prior dean/jo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 111,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Angel_Meg/pseuds/Fallen_Angel_Meg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has a dream of being a successful architect- one that may or may not be out of his reach. So when he receives a promising job at Designs of Divinity, a reputable architectural firm, he is beyond happy. It's everything he could ask for. Sure, he may only be the assistant of Castiel Novak, a well known architect and project manager, but he doesn't even care. It's a start. It isn't until he starts working for Castiel that he realizes the guy isn't exactly who he thought he'd be, and his dream job turns into a living hell. Dean decides he's had enough when Castiel denies him time off to attend his brother's wedding. But just when Dean thinks it can't get any worse, he finds out that he's being forced to marry Castiel to keep him from being deported. Fan-friggin'-tastic.<br/><i>Based on the movie The Proposal</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is something I've been working on for awhile now, and I'm so excited to finally share it! I hope you all enjoy the journey, should you choose to take it with me :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is something I've been working on for awhile now, and I'm so excited to finally share it! I hope you all enjoy the journey, should you choose to take it with me :)

Dean wipes his palms against his pants, eyes nervously fixated out the window beside him. “Dean,” his brother’s voice sounds across from him. Dean shifts his gaze to find Sam staring at him with a humored look on his face. “I told you to stop wiping your hands on your pants.”  
  
He smirks. “Okay, Mom.” He sets his hands on the table anyway, although not before seeing two faint marks on his slacks where the fabric soaked up some sweat. Great, now he’s going to look like even more of an idiot. His smirk fades as the anxiety grows once more.  
  
“Listen, I know you’re nervous, but really, you’re going to be fine.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” he mumbles, reaching for a napkin to play around with in his hands. He just needs to keep his hands busy. And not ruining his pants with his nervous sweat. Sam reaches forward and shoves his relatively untouched sandwich towards him.  
  
“Eat. If anything, you’re gonna pass out from an empty stomach,” Sam cracks a smile. This makes Dean feel slightly better as he picks up the sandwich and takes a small bite. Best to narrow the possibilities of failure as much as possible, right? “They’d be idiots not to hire you,” Sam tells him after a moment.  
  
“No. They’d be smart. A firm that prestigious can’t afford to be hiring mediocre employees,” Dean says as he chews. It’s true though. This architectural firm is one of the top firms in Chicago and difficult to get a position in- especially for someone who has little experience in the field. Honestly, it’s a hopeless feat.  
  
“And who says you’re mediocre? Dean, you’ve got to be more confident. Or at least act like it. I’ve seen your work; you’ve got so much potential!”  
  
The urge to deny Sam’s words rises in his throat, but one look at his brother’s concerned face makes Dean swallow the words with his sandwich. “Thanks Sammy. It’s just a lot of pressure. It’s a miracle I even got the interview. I just don’t wanna screw it up, you know?”  
  
Sam smiles comfortingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the same way once I begin interviewing at law firms. And I know you’ll be sitting across from me telling me the exact same thing I’m telling you now.”  
  
This brings a small smile to Dean’s face. Damn right he won’t let Sam believe he’s anything less than deserving. This in itself calms his nerves. If he’s doing this for anything, it’s for Sam- to make him proud, to have someone he can look up to.  
  
After his lunch with Sam, Dean arrives at the interview ten minutes early. Designs of Divinity. A rather cheesy name, but from what he’s heard, the founder of the firm is a cheesy guy. It’s only fitting for a guy that goes by the name Metatron. Dean wonders how anyone took this firm seriously when it was first established. But who is he to judge? Isn’t he currently sitting, a nervous wreck, in wait for an interview at said firm?  
  
He runs through the possible questions that may be asked and his well-practiced responses in his head. The clock on the wall keeps calling his name as he looks at it every few seconds. This wait is agonizing.

He finds himself subconsciously wiping his sweaty palms on his pants again and grabs the nearest magazine to distract himself.  
  
He replays Sam’s words in his head in an effort to settle his nerves. This time, though, it isn’t working. Maybe he should call Charlie, or Jo. Both of them know how to calm his nerves. But he decides not to. It’s no use. Nothing will relax him at this point.  
  
He’s absently flipping through the pages of a structural engineering magazine when the receptionist’s phone rings. Dean’s eyes dart up, freezing in his page turning.  
  
There’s not even a greeting before she’s speaking, “Of course, I’ll send him right in.” Then she hangs up. Dean carefully sets the magazine down as the girl looks over to him with a sweet smile. “Metatron will see you now, Mr. Winchester.”  
  
He stands slowly, trying to resist the urge to run into the room and get it over with. Or maybe it’s the urge to flee while he can. Regardless, he calmly walks past her desk, sparing a glance at her name plate. “Thank you, Anna.”  
  
Her smile widens and a little color fills her cheeks. “Good luck.”  
  
Dean returns the smile and proceeds into the office.  
  
“Mr. Winchester!” Metatron greets him, standing to shake his hand firmly before sitting back down and motioning for Dean to do the same.  
  
“Thank you for making time for me, sir,” Dean smiles. He mentally takes a deep breath as the interview starts.  
  
Metatron is an interesting man. On the older side with wild, curly gray hair, and instead of a suit, he’s wearing a hideous robe that a rich person might wear in an old, classic film. This only compliments the soft classical music that fills the air of his office. And if Dean isn’t mistaken, is that a type writer on the corner of his desk?  
  
It doesn’t matter though. He’s is far too focused on the interview to question anything right now.  
  
But nonetheless, after forty five minutes, the man is telling some overly dramatic story of a recent client, eyes flashing with an insane smile on his face. Dean takes this as a good sign.  
  
When his story ends, Metatron laces his fingers together and looks Dean over, sitting back in his overly big swivel chair. “I like you, Dean. Very promising- although not much experience in the field.” That’s what Dean dreaded hearing. He opens his mouth to respond, to assure him of his talents, but Metatron continues talking. “However, I think you could be a good fit here.”  
  
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me,” Dean gives a polite smile even though he feels like jumping out of his chair and cheering. He likes the direction this is going.  
  
“If you were to take a position here, it would be a lower one, I’m afraid. Give you an opportunity to get more experience,” Metatron tells him.  
  
“Of course, that’s completely understandable,” Dean says, trying not to sound too desperate because honestly, he would take being a paper shredder if it means getting a chance to work for this firm.  
  
“There is one position open- pretty recently too. It’s an assistant to one of our most reputable project managers. He’s one of the best in the business.”  
  
“May I ask who?” Dean runs through all the names of who it could possibly be.  
  
“Castiel Novak,” Metatron says. Dean’s heart nearly stops.  
  
_Castiel Novak._  
  
He really is one of the best in the world of architecture. Not only is he excellent, but he made himself a name so fast- basically coming out of thin air. If Dean were to work under Castiel, it’s a promise that he would be able to get any job he wanted in the future.  
  
“You’ve heard of him?” Metatron’s question brings Dean from his thoughts.  
  
Dean grins. “Of course. Like you said, one of the best.”  
  
“I’ll be honest with you, Dean. There are a few other candidates for this job. When I took a look at your resume, I decided to give you a chance not expecting to be very impressed-” well, that’s comforting, “-But you’ve exceeded my expectations. I wasn’t prepared to have you meet Castiel, but seeing how well you’ve done, I’d like you two to have a chat. Since it’s his assistant that we’ll be hiring, he will be the one to make the final decision of which candidate is the best fit.”  
  
“Of course, I’d love to meet him,” Dean says, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He also wants to kick himself for saying ‘of course’ too much, but his nerves are making it too hard to form many words. Metatron smiles that toothy grin before calling up Castiel, who shows up not even a minute later.  
  
Dean stares up at the man for a moment before scrambling out of his chair to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Dean Winchester.”  
  
Castiel looks Dean over for what seems like forever- blue eyes scrutinizing every inch of him before meeting his gaze once again and accepting his hand with a firm shake.  
  
“Castiel Novak.”  
  


*****

  
**Two Years Later**

People pass by in a blur, the sounds of city traffic noises filling Dean’s ears. He weaves skillfully through the crowd, careful enough to keep the hot contents safely inside the coffee cup that he’s clutching for dear life. He offers quick apologies to the people he shoves past or bumps into but carries onwards.

Dammit, if only he’d woken up five minutes earlier. But this is what passes through his mind every other morning.

He ducks into the revolving door of his building, hurrying through the marbled lobby without too much of a disturbance. He practically launches himself into the elevator as it’s closing, punches the button to his floor and collapses against the wall in a panting mess. He ignores the bewildered looks that are being thrown his way from the other passengers, not caring one bit what they thought of him. They would be in the same state if they were in his shoes.

After a couple floors of panting, he straightens up and uncovers his watch from beneath his suit sleeve.

8:34.

His heart sinks.

He’s late.

He leans back against the wall for support since he most likely will need it.

Maybe there’s a chance though. Maybe there is hope that he can sneak in and look as if he is practically bored from waiting. Maybe.

The elevator doors open to his floor and Dean composes himself before hurrying out. He crosses the small waiting room, murmuring a good morning to the receptionist and swings open the door to reveal an open office space filled with cubicles. He walks swiftly to his desk and starts up his computer, briefly nodding in greeting to his coworkers around him. Dean notices the sympathy in their eyes but decides to remain hopeful. He slings off his bag, grabs the coffee and makes his way to the office no one ever willingly goes to.

“Good morning, Dean! Good luck in there,” Balthazar greets him with a smirk.

“Don’t tell me…” Dean stops when Balthazar nods in confirmation. Dean exhales, his hope deflating. So much for trying to have a good day.

“Don’t worry. We’ll pray for you,” Balthazar purrs in that elegant accent of his before turning back to his work. Dean briefly looks around to see eyes filled with pity and concern staring at him. He sighs and turns back to the closed door. He rests his hand on the handle, hesitating, but what’s the use of stalling? Might as well get it over with. He turns the handle and pushes in.

“Good morning, Mr. Novak,” he says in as cheery of a voice as he can. He steps into the office and closes the heavy wooden door behind him. He can see Balthazar through the tiny window next to the door giving him a thumbs-up. He suppresses the impulse to roll his eyes and steps up to the desk, setting the cup of coffee down carefully next to the gold name plate that reads _Castiel Novak._

“You’re late,” Castiel says in a low voice that sounds like a growl, although it’s not aggressive. He doesn’t look up at Dean as he flips through some concept drawings on his desk.

“Uh yeah, I, uh, may have overslept a little,” Dean stammers, wishing he could come up with a plausible lie, but he knows Castiel wouldn’t buy it for a second. Not after two years.

“Doesn’t that seem a little irresponsible to you?” Castiel questions in an uninterested voice, still concerning himself with his papers.

“Very. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

Castiel finally looks up at him, his piecing blue eyes burning into him. It makes Dean want to squirm but he stands his ground, holding the eye contact.

“I don’t want you to try. I want you to just do it,” Castiel says in an eerily calm tone. Honestly, it’s worse than yelling.

“Understood. I’ll just… do it,” Dean says and offers a small smile, hoping maybe he can charm his way out of this death stare. Castiel glares at him for another moment before turning his attention to the cup of coffee. He takes a small sip and nods in satisfaction before digging through his papers once again. Well, at least the coffee passed the test.

He pulls out a thick folder and holds it out to Dean. “I need this done by the end of the day. Did you move my meeting like I requested last night?”

Dean snaps into work mode, automatically taking the folder from Castiel. “Yes. Your meeting with Bartholomew was rescheduled to 2:30, I received the information to prepare the slides for Bela’s presentation…” Dean carries on updating him on the various tasks he’s completed. Castiel nods occasionally, having turned his attention back to his work as he idly sips at his coffee.

Once Dean is done with his report, he turns to leave. “Oh and my voicemail needs to be checked. I can’t be bothered with another desperate architect who thinks they’re ‘revolutionizing the way we view buildings’,” Castiel tells him, annoyance heavy in his tone.

“Yeah, how irritating,” Dean laughs lightly in an attempt to get back on Castiel’s good side. But Castiel ignores him and he clears his throat awkwardly. ”I’ll get right on that.”

Dean turns back to the door, ready to leave, but then stops. A thought crosses his mind- something he’s been meaning to ask Castiel for a while now but there never seemed to be an appropriate moment to talk about it. Now is definitely not the best time, seeing that Castiel looks like he wants to smite Dean, but he feels the sudden need to ask.

“Mr. Novak?”

“What.”

Dean swallows uneasily. “Did you happen to take a look at my sketches? For the Talbot Project, I mean.” Castiel pauses in his work and looks up at Dean, expression unreadable.

“Yes, I did actually.” Maybe there is hope. Before Dean can get too excited, Castiel continues, “They were rather subpar. A client such as Ms. Talbot requires ideas more… capable. More deft.”

The words stab into Dean. Harsh.

He swallows the lump forming in his throat and nods, unable to say anything more. The sad part is Dean can tell Castiel was trying to sugarcoat his words. He’s heard the way Castiel gives critiques of others’ ideas- the guy’s sensitivity is comparable to Gordon Ramsay sometimes- and this is definitely him being nice about it, if it can be called that.

He turns back to the door, ready to disappear from this office.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice sounds behind him again. He takes a small breath to steady himself, patience starting to wear thin and he’s worried he might either blow up on the man or cry. He turns back around, putting on his best fake smile.

“Yes, Mr. Novak?”

“I am assuming this phone number is not intended for me,” Castiel twists his coffee cup to reveal a number scrawled in sharpie across the side. That number is certainly not intended for Castiel.

Normally, Dean gets two coffees every morning. One for Castiel and one for himself. But since he was late today, he only ordered Castiel’s in a pathetic attempt to save time. He’s had this flirtatious ritual with the barista for a while now, but he never thought she’d write her number on a cup, which was now perched in his boss’ hand.

Maybe instead of trying for a good day, Dean’s mission should be to see how much he can piss Castiel off. That might make him feel better, and it sounds more fun.

“No, Mr. Novak, I don’t believe that was for you. But hey, you never know, maybe you should give it a call sometime.” Dean cracks a smile at him in an attempt to brush it off. Castiel’s response is an unamused stare. “So, uh, I’ll just get started on that voicemail now.”

Dean quickly opens the door and scoots out of the office, closing it behind him with a relieved sigh. Balthazar is waiting, of course, with an expectant look and Anna hovering close behind him.

“Look who made it out alive,” Balthazar announces to no one in particular. Anna stares at Dean, worry clouding her eyes.

“Is everything okay, Dean?” Of course, while Balthazar teases Dean, Anna actually worries about him.

“Anna, I’m fine. Castiel doesn’t scare me,” Dean scoffs, walking to his desk. He feels their gazes follow him, still expecting an explanation or a juicy story.

“Guys, nothing happened. Just got the usual scolding and that was that.” Dean tosses the heavy folder onto his desk, but they are still waiting. He sighs, turning back to them. “Okay fine. Um, his coffee cup had a girl’s number on it.”

Both of their mouths drop open and Balthazar bursts out laughing, Anna withholding a laugh of her own.

“Seriously?”

“That is classic! He must’ve had smoke coming from his ears!”

Dean holds his hand up to stop them. “He didn’t say anything. I just told him to call it and kinda left.” This only makes Balthazar laugh even harder. Dean smiles at their clear enjoyment. Despite being Castiel’s personal punching bag, he admits it’s fun to poke at him and see how much he can get away with. It provides entertainment for everyone else, at least.

“Dean, are you sure you’re okay though?” Anna asks, her smile replaced with another look of concern. He looks between them, her concern rubbing off on Balthazar, who has settled down now.

“Well, I asked him about my design for Bela...”

“And?” Balthazar prompts.

“He basically said I sucked,” Dean says bitterly, turning away from them to start unpacking his work from his bag. They’re silent for a moment and he can feel their pity rolling over him in waves. “It’s fine guys, really. I’m fine.” He hates this feeling. He does not want anyone’s pity.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face when he came in and you weren’t here yet,” Balthazar chuckles in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Dean raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, if looks could kill,” Anna adds.

“We thought for sure you’d be dead,” Balthazar continues. They’re trying to make him feel better and it works. Dean cracks a tiny smile.

The door behind them opens up and everyone scrambles away to their desks, heads down. Even Balthazar- who rarely puts in the effort anymore- jumps and turns in his chair to fumble around with some papers on his desk as if he’s incredibly busy. Dean quickly slides into his chair and grabs for the phone to start the voicemail. He watches the door out of the corner of his eye. Castiel emerges, sweeping his disconnected blue gaze over the office before walking through the cubicles and down the hall.

“That was a close one,” Balthazar mutters to Dean, who nods bleakly as the first of twenty two messages starts to play.

*****

  


Castiel pauses in his work, head spinning as he looks out the wide window next to him. He studies the city- impressive buildings surrounding him, the lake glistening in the distance with small, ant like people and cars humming below.

So much to get done. Everything needs to be perfect by the time Bela and her agents arrive. If something were to go bad… Castiel shakes the dark thought from his head.

Things simply cannot go wrong.

A chime from his computer pulls him from his thoughts and he spins in his chair to look at the screen. It’s an email from Bartholomew confirming their meeting at 1:30. Irritation flares up in Castiel. This damn assistant of his is useless. He briefly wonders how he’s managed to keep Dean around after two years.

He stands up, walking to the door and swinging it open. He spots Dean at his desk a couple cubicles down and starts towards him, hearing his low voice speak into the phone.

“…Yeah I know Sam. Don’t worry, I’ll be down there with plenty of time. He can’t not let me go to my brother’s wedding,” Dean murmurs. His green eyes snap up as Castiel approaches and he says louder, “And I will get back to you shortly about that. Thank you,” before hanging up. Castiel doesn’t bother to point out he knows when Dean isn’t actually on the phone for work related matters.

“Dean, I thought I told you to move my meeting with Bartholomew to 2:30.”

“I did, Mr. Novak,” Dean says slowly, clearly confused.

“Then why did I get an email from him confirming 1:30?” Castiel narrows his eyes, pressing his lips into a firm line.

“I swear I emailed him,” Dean mutters, picking up the phone and quickly dialing Bartholomew’s extension. Castiel watches him closely, not even trying to hide his annoyance. On top of everything he needs to be worrying about, this certainly should not be one.

“Hey, Bartholomew! Dean Winchester calling. There must’ve been a miscommunication. Mr. Novak requested the meeting to be moved to… yes. 2:30. Right. Okay,” Dean nods occasionally, eyes flickering up at Castiel. “Of course, not a problem!” Dean hangs up, turning his attention back to Castiel.

“Well?” he demands impatiently.

“Bartholomew realized he made an error in his email to you. He meant 2:30 instead of 1:30. He said he sent the correction,” Dean tells him calmly. Castiel can’t help but notice the microscopic look of smugness in his eyes. It makes Castiel even more irritated, but it’s more from embarrassment for jumping the gun.

“Oh… Well, then in that case,” he starts. Dean looks around awkwardly, seeming unsure whether to make eye contact or not. A thought crosses his mind though- that conversation he walked up on Dean having. “Were you planning on taking time off?”

The question seems to take Dean off guard and he becomes flustered. “Uh yeah, I got a family event planned.”

“Did you approve it with me?” Castiel presses, something in him aching to pick a fight with Dean.

“I was going to talk to you after your meeting. I know you’ve got a shi- a lot of stuff going on today,” Dean explains, catching himself before he curses.

“Your request for time off is denied,” Castiel doesn’t even pause to pretend to think it over. He turns on his heel and strides back towards his office.

“But it’s my brother’s wedding! I kinda can’t miss it as the best man and all,” Dean calls after him. Castiel can tell Dean’s struggling to stay calm, but he ignores it.

“Your time is needed here. My decision is final,” Castiel casts one last look at Dean, who has risen from his chair, hands clenched into fists at his side, before disappearing into his office and shutting the door firmly behind him.

*****

  


Dean feels like he might implode.

He’s still standing in the aisle staring at the closed door to the demon’s office. Anger burns in him and he’s fighting every impulse to charge in there and let Castiel Novak hear it all. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to look into the wide eyes of Anna.

“Dean?”

“Anna, hey,” Dean takes a careful breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Dean, he can’t do that. There’s no way,” Anna says slowly. Embarrassment rises to his cheeks as he glances over her shoulder to see the rest of the office watching him.

“Well he just did,” he mutters, gently moving out of her grasp. He swipes his cell phone from his desk and makes his way out of the office, telling no one in particular, “I’m taking my lunch break.”

Dean feels like he’s watching himself outside his body as he rides the elevator down to the ground floor, crosses the open lobby and steps outside to freedom.

This can’t be happening.

He knows if Castiel finds out he took his lunch break without notifying him that he’ll be even more pissed at him, but at this point, Dean doesn’t care. Even if Castiel were to fire him, he might not be so upset. Sure, it would suck- this architecture firm has been Dean’s dream for a long time now. He’s been working his ass off for two years as Castiel’s assistant in hopes one day he can get his big break.

Dean still remembers how incredible that day of his interview was. He was so nervous because this job was everything to him. Castiel is one of the most notorious project managers in the architectural world as well as an incredible designer himself. It’s obvious why Dean was beside himself to have the honor of working closely with such a well-known and respected individual.

Of course, there were always rumors about Castiel Novak- that he was a hard ass, very task oriented and lacking in the people skills department. Dean heard all of them after his interview with Metatron and Castiel, but his blinding excitement caused him to dismiss those rumors as just that. Rumors.

Turns out, they weren’t just rumors.

So now that he’s standing in front of his building with people bustling around him, he’s realizing that maybe his dream job isn’t worth it anymore. He exhales gently, looking down at his phone that he’s been clutching tightly in his hand and dials Sam’s number.

“Dean, what happened? Did he catch you?” A worried voice fills his ear after two short rings.

“Yeah. Guess my cover wasn’t so convincing,” Dean manages a half-hearted laugh, more for his brother’s sake than his own.

“It was a pretty lame cover,” Sam says, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “So did he say anything?”

“Yep. After ridiculing me about some email, he mentioned me taking some days off,” Dean trails off.

“And?”

“He denied my request,” he mutters, leaning against the dark granite wall of his building.

“What? There’s no way he can do that! It’s my wedding and you’re the best man for heaven’s sake! And you haven’t had a day off in months,” Sam exclaims.

“Well he did, Sam,” Dean’s voice hardens, frustration growing even more and he really wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now.

“What are you going to do?” Sam’s voice is strained.

“Don’t worry, I won’t miss your big day for some stupid job under an asshole who clearly has some sort of God complex. I’m coming no matter what he says,” Dean assures him.

“What if you get fired?”

“Then so be it. I’m not about to sacrifice my baby brother’s wedding for _anything._ ”

“Dean, this is the job you’ve worked so hard to get for years now. Hell, this is the exact place you’ve been working towards ever since you wanted to be an architect. This is your life,” Sam tells him. Dean shakes his head even though he knows Sam can’t see him.

“I’ve made up my mind. Nothing will keep me from coming. Even if I have to come a day or two later, I will be there. I promise.” There’s silence on the other end and Dean knows Sam is stressing out big time. He knows Sam wants badly for him not to have to sacrifice his job, but he doesn’t care anymore.

“Listen, I gotta go. Seriously, don’t worry about me. You just focus on you and Jessica. I’ll call you later,” Dean promises.

Sam sighs. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later,” and with that, they hang up.

*****

  


Castiel types away on his keyboard, still fuming over his conversation with Dean. It’s a strange mix of embarrassment and annoyance. He will admit he was in the wrong to immediately fault Dean for the error Bartholomew made, but he could be blamed? Dean showed up to work late, once again, amongst other small mistakes he’s been making lately.

With the Talbot Project rapidly approaching a signed contract, Castiel can’t afford to be paying for Dean’s mistakes, no matter how small they are. If Castiel screws up with an important client such as Bela, he’ll be out of a job no doubt.

Castiel turns his attention to an IM that pops up on the side of screen. Bartholomew again. Castiel rolls his eyes. That’s another thing. Metatron decided to put them both on Bela’s project to “make sure everything gets done correctly”.

Castiel’s worked with Bartholomew plenty of times before. However, he always seems to think he out ranks Castiel, when in reality, they are equals. There’s been speculation that Metatron is planning to off a project manager due to budget cuts and it’s between the two of them- his deciding factor based on how each of them do with Bela.

While Castiel prides himself on being well recognized and successful, next to Bartholomew, he is one of the younger project managers. Easy pickings for Metatron. And Castiel hates to admit it, but Bartholomew does have a track record of being a damn good project manager.

Of course though, he doesn’t buy into petty rumors. They’re for children. But Bartholomew certainly seems to. Ever since he was assigned to the Talbot project as well, he’s been trying to take over and passive aggressively asserting himself over Castiel.

He doesn’t feel threatened though- only mildly annoyed. This senseless competition is only getting in the way of paying attention to an important client.

Castiel reads over his message, furrowing his brow as he reads.

_Castiel, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve submitted my version of our presentation to Metatron for review. I figured we could discuss his feedback during our meeting._

Castiel stares at the message, speechless. It takes him a moment before he moves his fingers to respond.

_Bartholomew, I thought we agreed to wait on submitting the presentations to Metatron until after we’ve met. I have yet to submit mine and I’m sure Metatron would’ve wanted us both to wait until we made our final revisions._

Castiel picks up his phone and dials Dean’s extension, but it goes to voicemail. “Dean, come to my office immediately. We need to discuss Bela’s presentation now.” He slams the phone down on the receiver. Dammit, where is Dean? His computer chimes to signal a new IM.

_Castiel, I figured- why not take the initiative? We are running out of time and things need to move along more urgently than they are._

He shakes his head as he reads over the message. This can’t be happening. His phone ringing brings him back to his senses and he picks it up swiftly.

“Castiel Novak,” he answers tensely, hoping to hear Dean’s voice on the other end.

It’s not Dean though.

“Castiel, I’d like to speak with you in my office when you have a moment.” Metatron.

“Yes, I’ll be right over,” Castiel says before hanging up. Shit, this can’t be good. Bartholomew just threw him under the bus.

He stands, emerging from his office to see Anna sitting on Balthazar’s desk, both of them giggling and talking in hushed voices. They jump at his sudden entrance, Anna scampering off to her desk while Balthazar lazily pretends to look through some papers on his desk. It irritates Castiel because he knows Balthazar isn’t actually working, but the man doesn’t even seem to care about putting on a convincing act for Castiel’s sake. He never says anything though- it’s just not worth it.

“Where is Dean?” 

Balthazar shrugs. “I’m not sure, quite honestly. I think he’s on his lunch break.”

“When he returns, let him know I need the outline for the Talbot presentation immediately,” Castiel says before stalking to Metatron’s office.

*****

  


Dean spends his lunch break in Millennium Park. If it’s one thing Dean enjoys about Chicago, it’s the various places to visit. It’s full of art and architecture and food. The perfect place for him. He used to go here all the time when he first moved to the Windy City but until recently, Castiel hasn’t been allowing him to take long enough lunch breaks to make the trip worth it.

But now he sits alone on a park bench, half-heartedly nibbling at a sub. After the day he’s had, he’s barely hungry, but he forces himself to eat anyway.

After trying to swallow a bite that seems to stick inside his throat, he decides to call Charlie. Surely out of anyone, she’ll be able to lift his spirits.

“Hey Dean!” her voice squeaks on the other end of the line and it brings a smile to his face.

“Hey kid, you busy?”

“Nah, just doing some coding. What’s up?” He can hear her fingers going a mile a minute on the key board in the background.

He sighs. “I just wanted to blow off some steam.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right person! Is it that demon boss of yours again?” she asks, slightly amused.

“Yeah. He denied my time off to go to Sam’s wedding.” After a moment of hesitation, he tells her about Castiel’s response to his design too.

Her reaction is instant and it’s what Dean was hoping for. “What? That’s so unfair! I’m starting to believe he actually doesn’t have a soul.” He can hear her fingers working furiously against the keys and it makes him chuckle. This is why Charlie is his best friend.

“Maybe you’re right. But don’t worry, I’ll be there. There’s no way I’m gonna miss it.”

“I say you march into his office and give him a piece of your mind,” she tells him and Dean knows she has a mischievous smile on her face.

“As much as I’d love to, it’s probably not the best decision.”

“Listen to you, sounding all wise and crap,” she accuses.

Dean snorts, “Yeah right.” Charlie snickers on the other end of the phone but doesn’t say anything and Dean knows she’s trying to work. “Listen, I’ll let you go back to your work, but thanks for listening.”

“Of course, Dean! I’ll call you later, I promise.”

Dean smiles and they say their goodbyes before hanging up.

He glances at his watch. Twenty minutes has passed already. He decides it’s best to head back to work, although he takes his sweet time doing it. He’s almost certain Castiel will be waiting with that icy glare on his face, jaw tight.

When he strolls into the office, he gets the same curious stares as always. It makes him want to say something to make them stop. They always stare at him like he’s some sort of exhibit at a zoo.

He tosses his phone onto his desk before settling in his chair. Oddly though, there’s no angry Castiel waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Dean!” Balthazar smirks.

“Thanks, did I miss anything?” Dean murmurs, shaking his mouse to wake his computer up.

“Castiel was looking for you. Something about needing the presentation outline like, yesterday,” Balthazar informs him.

“Now? Why?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. He went to Metatron’s office though.”

Dean furrows his brow in confusion before digging out the outline. This wasn’t supposed to be ready for a couple hours. He sticks everything in a folder and walks down to Metatron’s office.

Dean hesitates at the door, unsure whether to interrupt them or not, even though he attends all Castiel’s meetings with him. But Castiel wasn’t scheduled to meet with Metatron today, which makes Dean think this is a personal issue.

He exhales and knocks on the door before he can change his mind. A muffled Metatron calls for him to enter above the ever playing classical music. Hesitantly, he pokes his head inside, stopping when he sees Castiel standing before Metatron and two other people Dean vaguely recognizes.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, I just had something-“

“What are you doing here?” Castiel’s cold blue eyes are on him.

“I just heard you needed this?” Dean holds up the folder questioningly. Castiel’s eyes flicker to the folder then back to Dean. His eyes turn curious and Dean can see the gears turning in his head.

What’s going on? Is Castiel getting fired?

Dean opens his mouth to explain they can talk later but Castiel motions for him to come closer.

He hesitates, glancing at the others before awkwardly closing the door behind him and moving further into the room.

“I understand completely. These things happen. However, I do have some great news,” Castiel says, turning back to Metatron and the other two. Dean is startled when he feels a sudden hand on his shoulder and turns to see the hand belongs to Castiel.

“Dean and I- we’re getting married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the first chapter! Hope you guys liked it and the next should be posted soon :)  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left comments and kudos on chapter 1 :) It makes me soo happy to know there's people out there excited for what's to come and took the time to tell me ♥ Also as a note, I will be updating the tags as the story progresses, so make sure to check those before reading (although I'll probably write a note at the start of the chapter anyways). So without further ado, here's chapter 2 :D

Dean has seen a lot in his life so far- probably more than anyone should ever see. As a result, he prides himself on being able to take whatever comes at him in stride. Whatever it is, he takes it and deals with it, and will even do it with a smirk. Because of this, Dean is rarely ever left genuinely speechless, unable to process what has unfolded before him.  
  
Which is why it truly says something as he stands there, gaping and staring disbelievingly at Castiel.  
  
What… What did he just say?  
  
“You and Mr. Winchester are getting married?” the older woman in a pants suit and a neat bun questions, pulling Dean from his current state of shock. He remembers her now. Naomi from HR. It supports Dean’s theory of Castiel getting fired, but how the hell does that translate to them getting married?  
  
“Yes. We’ve been dating in secrecy, seeing that having interpersonal relationships at work is generally frowned upon,” Castiel explains, patting Dean’s shoulder in a way Dean supposes is meant to be lovingly. It just feels stiff and awkward.  
  
“But Dean is your assistant?” Metatron says, still trying to digest the news along with everyone else.  
  
“That is correct. You know, since we spend so much time together, things just… happened,” Castiel says, seeming unsure of what he is saying until the words are falling out of his mouth. Everyone’s expectant gazes fall on Dean next, waiting for him to confirm this news and he realizes he hasn’t said one word yet. Hell, he probably looks just as skeptical by the news as the rest of them.  
  
Castiel’s hand squeezes his shoulder where it was still perched, just enough for it not to be noticeable to the others but clearly a silent command for Dean to speak.  
  
“Um, yeah. We just… happened,” Dean forces the words out of his mouth. “Definitely didn’t see it coming,” he adds under his breath before offering a weak smile to the three pairs of eyes in front of him.  
  
Why the hell is he even saying this? It’s as if, after being Castiel’s assistant all this time, it’s become second nature to instantly do whatever the man wanted him to do. How pathetic.  
  
“That explains all that tension,” Dean hears the suited man whisper to Naomi over the soft violins, who nods with a knowing grin spreading across her face.  
  
“Well then, congratulations to you both. Just make sure to sort it out, Castiel. For the time being though, my decision still holds. We can review it once this whole situation has been resolved,” Metatron says with a sly smile.  
  
Castiel nods with a respectful, “Of course,” before walking out of the room, leaving Dean to trail dazedly behind him.  
  
Once the door clicks shut behind them, Castiel wastes no time walking straight to his office without a single word. Dean stares dumbstruck after him as his brain starts to process what just happened. He eventually follows him into his office, closing the door behind them.  
  
Castiel plops himself in his chair and starts clicking away at his computer, acting as if Dean isn’t staring completely baffled at him.  
  
“Are you going to stare at me all day or get some work done?” Castiel finally breaks the silence.  
  
“What the hell just happened?” he demands, not caring to filter himself.  
  
“A situation concerning my visa came up and I was going to be deported,” Castiel explains, not taking his eyes off his computer.  
  
Dean scoffs. “Oh, well that explains everything.” He’s struggling to keep his voice under control, settling for sarcasm instead.  
  
“I needed to buy time and this is a perfect loophole. I am not going to give up my job for something so insignificant.”  
  
“I think most would consider deportation pretty significant-” Dean starts to point out but Castiel continues talking over him.  
  
“And I’ll be damned if I let Bartholomew get all the credit for the Talbot Project. I’ve been working on this too hard and long to let that bastard take it from me.”  
  
Dean runs his hand through his hair as he starts to pace around the office. “This is wrong on so many levels.”  
  
“Why? Do you have a significant other?” Castiel asks.  
  
“Well, no but-”  
  
“Then what’s the problem?”  
  
“You know, I’d like to think that marriage is a meaningful commitment shared between two people who love each other,” Dean says dryly. Castiel finally tears his attention away from his computer to look at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s heard.  
  
“Please. Like anyone does that anymore.”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “I won’t be part of this.”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “Of course you will, Dean. Because if you don’t, all your hard work at being an architect and starting your own firm one day with be for nothing. You will have nothing. Your credibility will be ruined and no firm will dare hire you,” Castiel speaks in a hauntingly calm voice. It sends a shiver through Dean. It’s scary how calm he can appear when in reality, he’s softly killing.  
  
Cold- blooded. Mechanical.  
  
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, his head spinning. It’s as if Castiel’s threat just dropped a thousand pounds on his shoulders and he’s about to crumble from under it. This is a new low for Castiel. It’s one thing to treat people like shit, but it’s another to threaten to ruin someone’s entire career.  
  
“Now that we have that settled, we’re wasting time and we’ve got a lot to get done,” Castiel turns back to his computer, clearly a sign of dismissal. Dean opens his mouth to argue but decides it’s pointless and storms out.  
  
“There’s the man of the hour!” Someone yells as Dean emerges from Castiel’s office.  
  
“The future Mr. Novak!” Another chimes in, starting a round of applause. Dean sweeps his gaze around the office, taking in the mixture of mockery, confusion, and speechlessness. Anna, of course, is waiting faithfully next to Balthazar’s desk, both staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
Dean wishes he could just curl up into himself and disappear.  
  
“Alright, alright, back to work before his fiancé comes out and fires us all,” Balthazar says loudly to the rest of the office. He’s convincing enough as everyone scatters back to their desks. Dean gives him a grateful half smile, walking tiredly to his desk.  
  
Anna and Balthazar both turn to face him, scooting closer.  
  
“Dean, is it true?” Anna whispers. Dean meets her gaze and nods slowly. “But how? I mean, it doesn’t any sense,” she furrows her eyebrows, eyes clouding with confusion.  
  
“I’m a pretty convincing actor,” Dean gives her his classic smirk, although he’s not sure how convincing of actor he’s being right now.  
  
“But… it’s _Castiel Novak_. I’ve known the man a lot longer than you and I still don’t think he has a heart,” Balthazar presses.  
  
Dean shrugs. “He’s a little rough around the edge but…” he struggles to think of a time Castiel actually did something nice. Besides hiring him- which seems more like a curse than a blessing at this point- there’s only one thing he can think of.  
  
“He helped you, Anna. You used to be the receptionist, and it was his good word that got you promoted to director of marketing.” Although, that’s not entirely true. It was actually Dean who convinced Castiel to even mention Anna’s name in the first place to Metatron. Still, he’ll grab at anything right now.  
  
Anna nods slowly but still doesn’t look convinced.  
  
Dean sighs. “I guess when you spend so much time with someone, you get to know them.” He tries not to cringe at how ridiculous he sounds. “He’s a great guy deep down. Deep, deep… deep down...”  
  
Anna and Balthazar share a concerned look before shifting their eyes back to him.  
  
“Dean Winchester. If anyone were to bring the scandal of the year, it would be you,” Balthazar jokes with a smile. This actually makes Dean laugh, a real laugh.  
  
“I’d hate to disappoint.”  
  
“Congratulations then, Dean. As long as you’re happy, we’ll be happy for you,” Anna smiles gently and Balthazar nods in agreement. It breaks Dean’s heart a little to see how sincere they are. Damn Castiel for making him do this, to have to lie to everyone. He just gives them a reassuring smile and turns back to his computer, hoping they take the hint he doesn’t want to talk anymore.  
  
They do.  


*****

Dean shows up the next morning on time with Castiel’s coffee made to perfection. No number on it this time. Castiel has no complaints either, about anything. In fact, he is entirely indifferent to Dean, as if yesterday never happened.

After Dean had dismissed Anna and Balthazar yesterday, he buried himself in work. He had all of Castiel’s assignments completed on time, attended his meeting with Bartholomew, who only offered one mock congrats before getting down to business, and packed up his things to leave. On his way out, Balthazar and Anna intercepted him, inviting him out to have drinks. Dean thought about accepting but decided against it. It would just be awkward. Instead, he went home to drink alone and catch up on his guilty pleasure, _Dr. Sexy MD._

He was starting on his second glass of whiskey when he got an idea. Maybe there was a way he could work this situation to his advantage. Castiel clearly isn’t above a little blackmail, so why not him? The thought brought a small smile to his face. Besides, he loves getting under Castiel’s skin.

Might as well make the best of a shitty situation.

Now, as he’s sitting in his of recent fiancé’s office organizing folders of paperwork, Castiel breaks their professional silence. “We’re going to the immigration office today.”

“Oh, what time?”

“Four. It shouldn’t be a long visit. Make sure everything is wrapped up by 3:30.”

Dean nods, letting it fall silent between them for a moment before he speaks up again. “Ah, that reminds me. I’ve been doing some thinking about this little arrangement you’ve made.” Dean abandons the folders to take a seat in front of Castiel’s desk. This makes Castiel look warily at him.

“Not thinking of running, are you?” Dean can almost see the list of ways to blackmail him growing in Castiel’s head.

“Of course not. What we have is special,” Dean winks. It pulls Castiel up short, which satisfies something in Dean.

“Okay then. What is it?”

“Just some revisions. I was thinking about how a healthy relationship requires some level of equality,” Dean starts casually.

“Spit it out, Dean,” Castiel says impatiently.

Dean smirks. “For agreeing to marry you- and therefore saving you from deportation as well as the destruction of your career in this fine country- I want one of my designs to be presented to Bela.”

Silence. Blue eyes absorbing the words. Then he laughs.

“Dean, that’s very ambitious of you, but surely you’re joking.” Dean just stares at Castiel and his laughter wanes. “You can’t be serious,” he deadpans.

“I would not make the conditions of our marriage a joking matter,” Dean tells him, withholding the smug smile that threatens to spread across his face.

Castiel’s voice lowers, speaking each word with care, “Absolutely not. Ms. Talbot is an immensely important client for both this company and myself.”

“Then you’re going to have to find a new husband,” Dean says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Or a flight back to, where is it? Vancouver, right?”

Castiel stares at Dean, jaw tight and shoulders tense. Dean knows he’s got him.

“Fine,” Castiel growls.

The smile finally breaks through Dean’s defenses, pleased that his plan actually worked.

“But I approve the concept beforehand.”

“Done. And I’d like one more thing,” Dean says.

“What could that possibly be?” It looks like it’s taking everything Castiel has to remain calm.

“I want my time off approved.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“Great! See, isn’t compromise fun?” Dean says happily as he stands, scooping up his work.

“Dean, get out of my office,” Castiel mutters, taking a long drink of his coffee.

“Sure thing, babe.” Dean opens the door and walks out, chuckling to himself as he hears Castiel coughing on his coffee.

Oh yes, this is working out very well in Dean’s favor.

*****

Castiel is busy answering last minute emails when there’s a knock at his door followed by Dean entering.

“Hey, it’s 3:30. Ready to go?” Castiel looks up to see green eyes watching him cautiously from the door. Castiel takes in the sight of him for a moment, trying to read him.

This morning, Dean had gotten a wave of arrogance with his requests. Castiel knew Dean enjoyed purposely irritating him at times, but this morning was different. It was as if Dean felt like he could get away with whatever he wanted. And to Castiel’s dismay, he pretty much can.

To make matters worse, Dean’s apparently decided to embrace their deal by flirting. Of course, it’s meaningless and Dean was just poking fun to irritate Castiel, but it actually worked. Not the irritation part though. Castiel was more than a little flustered when Dean winked at him and he nearly choked on his coffee when Dean called him ‘babe’.

Castiel feels nothing for Dean, just to be clear. Sure, Dean is an attractive man and Castiel occasionally catches himself calling Dean into his office only to forget what he needed when he stares into those clear green eyes. But Castiel doesn’t have time to fawn over someone else, much less his assistant. He is a professional and wouldn’t dare jeopardize all his hard work over a pretty face.

Besides, Dean infuriates him ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent he is completely indifferent.

For whatever reason though, Dean actually got to him this morning. Caught him off guard or something. It doesn’t sit well with Castiel.

“Almost. Just let me answer this last email,” Castiel says. Dean nods and collapses in the chair across from him, drumming his fingers against the arm rest. Castiel resists the urge to roll his eyes and continues to type away. He starts when Dean’s phone rings rather loudly.

Dean quickly digs it out, glancing at the number before answering, “Hey Sam. Now’s not exactly a good time. Yeah, you know how it is. I’ll call you later.” And then his conversation is over as quickly as it started. Castiel glances at Dean, who is staring at his phone with a frown.

“Is Sam is your brother?”

Dean looks up in surprise. “Um, yeah.”

“The one who is getting married?”

“The one and only,” Dean says, tucking his phone away. Castiel just nods, reading over his email one last time before hitting send and shutting down his computer.

“Ready?” Castiel stands up, tucking a folder into his work bag and slinging it across his body.

“Of course.” Dean rises to his feet.

They exit the office, Castiel locking it behind them. He can already feel every pair of eyes on the two of them and Dean shifts uncomfortably beside him. Castiel decides to do what he normally does and ignores everyone as he walks through the cubicles to the elevator, Dean following behind him.

Once they’re in the elevator, Castiel hears Dean exhale softly beside him. It makes Castiel smile to himself. It seems that all Dean’s confidence from this morning has dissipated. He may have gotten the upper hand before, but now it’s Castiel’s turn to see Dean squirm. Some payback is warranted.

“Dean,” Castiel says, looking over at him.

“Hm?”

“Your behavior this morning in my office was inappropriate.”

“What?” Dean’s confused but then the slightest smirk crosses his face, telling Castiel he remembers. “Oh sorry, are pet names off the table?”

This is exactly where Castiel wanted Dean to go. He takes a step closer to Dean, whose smirk falls off his face and he stumbles backwards into the wall of the elevator at the sudden closeness. Castiel takes one more step, closing the newly created space once again, holding Dean’s unwavering gaze.

Castiel lowers his voice, adding to the effect. “You will treat me with respect at work. We may be in a false romantic relationship, but our work relationship remains the same. Is that clear?”

It all works. Dean swallows uneasily and nods wordlessly.

“Great.” Castiel smiles and steps back just in time for the elevator doors to open to the ground floor and he leads the way through the lobby, not sparing one look over his shoulder, as much as he wants to revel in Dean’s stunned expression.

After a silent taxi ride, they arrive at the immigration office. Castiel’s good mood from finally getting one over on Dean disappears when he sees the office is jam packed with people. This is going to take forever. Castiel insists on cutting the line to drop off his file but Dean objects.

“Calm down, would ya? Just be patient. Besides, shouldn’t we settle on a story in the mean time? Just in case?”

Castiel looks at him in confusion. “Why would they need a story? We’re dropping off paperwork then leaving.”

Dean shrugs, looking around uneasily. “I don’t know.”

“Okay fine. We obviously met at work, started dating after six months of you being there and got engaged a month ago,” Castiel offers, deciding not to come up with anything more detailed than that. Dean nods slowly, but not looking any less settled. Then Castiel understands. “Dean, we’re going to be fine.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one whose ass is on the line.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” Dean gives him a dirty look but stays silent.

After waiting fifteen minutes in line, it’s finally their turn. “Hello, I’m just turning this in,” Castiel tells the person behind the counter. They flip through Castiel’s organized folder of papers before looking back up at them.

“You two are getting married?” the woman questions.

“Yes we are,” Castiel smiles, patting Dean on the shoulder. The woman’s eyes flicker between Dean and Castiel before she speaks again.

“Mr. Novak, Mr. Winchester, would you come this way?” Castiel hears Dean’s breath catch in his throat but Castiel remains calm, giving a polite, “Of course”.

They are led to an office where an older, balding man is leaned back lazily in his chair behind a desk, the phone held against his ear.

“Yes, turns out it was all a scam after all. I tell you, I always catch them,” The man is saying. The clerk who led them here tosses the folder on the desk and leaves without another word. Castiel glances at the nameplate on the desk that reads _Zachariah, Private Investigator._

Well, this certainly can’t be good.

Castiel feels something brush against his arm and looks down to see Dean fidgeting with his hands. “Hey, I’ve got someone here. I’ll call you back,” and with that, Zachariah hangs up, turning his attention to Dean and Castiel.

“Hello, what can I do for you boys?”

“We were just brought here,” Dean says a little too quickly and it takes everything in Castiel not to glare at him. But if they’re supposed to look in love, glaring won’t do. If anything though, Dean is going to ruin their cover with his guilty conscious.

Zachariah raises an eyebrow at them before grabbing the file that’s waiting on his desk and starts to flip through it.

“Let’s see… Ah, so you two are getting married,” Zachariah muses as his eyes flit over the documents. He pauses for a moment, eyes flickering up to them and back down. A knowing smile crosses his lips as he sets the file down. “And which one of you would be Castiel Novak?”

“That would be me,” Castiel says, holding out his hand in greeting. Stay calm. Just routine procedure. Zachariah shakes it firmly before turning his eyes to Dean.

“And you must be Dean Winchester then.” Dean nods and offers his hand as well.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I am Zachariah and it seems I have been assigned to your case,” he says after shaking Dean’s hand.

“Um, case?” Dean asks.

“Yes. Why don’t you both take a seat so we can chat,” Zachariah motions to the chairs beside them.

They both sit, Dean practically collapsing in the chair as if he was about to fall if it wasn’t there to catch him. Castiel wishes he could tell Dean to relax; his anxiety is doing more harm than anything else.

“Is there a problem?” Castiel asks innocently.

“It seems there is. As you know, it is illegal to partake in a fraudulent marriage for the sake of saving someone from deportation. Such activity can land you in a big heap of trouble. Isn’t that right, Mr. Winchester?” Zachariah smiles at Dean and Castiel can hear his breathing falter for a moment before he clears his throat.

“Right.”

Castiel frowns, not liking one bit how Zachariah is targeting Dean. But Zachariah knows he’s the chink in the chain to put pressure on before it breaks.

“If I may, are you implying that Dean and I marrying under false pretenses?” Castiel interjects. He makes sure to keep his voice steady, but slightly appalled. It’s stern, nonetheless, and it has the desired effect. Zachariah falters for a moment before answering.

“I am not implying anything yet, Mr. Novak. However, we do take these things very seriously, especially when we’ve gotten notice of the possibility of such activity.”

“Someone told you we’re faking?” Dean laughs as if it was the most absurd thing he’s ever heard, but Castiel knows better. He knows Dean’s nervous laugh too well from all the times he’s shown up late or made a mistake and tried to get back in Castiel’s good graces by making light of it all. Hopefully it’s just not so obvious to Zachariah.

“Yes, we’ve received a tip from someone that Castiel was to be deported and that you two are using this marriage as a means to keep him in the country,” Zachariah says. Castiel glances at Dean who is staring back at him, silently asking Castiel what they should do. But Castiel is speechless.

Who would purposely try to get Castiel thrown out of the country? He supposes the better question is, who wouldn’t?

“Do you have a name?” Castiel asks after a moment.

“Does it really matter? To be honest, Mr. Novak, it’s not looking very good for the both of you. The individual who tipped us off says that there has been no evidence of you too being in a relationship prior to the notice of your deportation,” Zachariah explains. Castiel searches his mind for what to say when it occurs to him.

He knows exactly who told them.

“I bet it was Bartholomew. You know how he is…” Castiel murmurs to Dean, who scrunches his eyebrows at him for a moment but then understands.

“Oh, yeah. That guy has always been a little… jealous,” Dean says quietly. The mention of Bartholomew’s name raises Zachariah’s eyebrows and Castiel knows he got it right.

“What’s that now?” Zachariah asks, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Oh, just some troubling coworker of ours,” Dean says.

“Coworker to both of you?” Zachariah flips back through the file, probably checking their employment.

“Yes. Dean and I work together, which is why we haven’t been open about our relationship,” Castiel explains.

“Yeah, I mean, we thought we were doing the professional thing by keeping our… love, a secret. We didn’t want to disrupt the work environment so it stayed in our private life,” Dean says, sounding a little more confident. Zachariah is still looking through their file but doubt has settled on his features. Maybe they can still get out of here unscathed.

“Have you told your families about your relationship?” Zachariah asks, glancing up at them.

Dean and Castiel look at each other questioningly before Dean answers, “No, I haven’t. My family doesn’t know... know about my sexuality yet,” This causes Zachariah to raise an eyebrow.

“So you were going to marry someone without them ever knowing?”

Castiel glances at Dean to see the confidence drain from his eyes. Dammit. Zachariah’s got him.

“We were going to reveal the news to everyone next weekend. Dean’s brother is getting married and we planned to tell them there, in person,” Castiel jumps in. Zachariah looks between the both of them before settling his eyes on Castiel.

“And what about your family?”

“I have no family, with the exception of my brother, Gabriel. But I haven’t talked to him about my personal life for years,” Castiel says smoothly. At least that’s true. The few times he has talked to Gabriel recently, they’ve been stilted conversations that don’t last for more than ten minutes. But he is grateful that Dean would not be a foreign name to Gabriel. Castiel just had to complain to someone at times.

“Very well. Now I believe you, I really do-” Castiel doesn’t buy it for one second, “however, because of the series of circumstances that have taken place, I still need to look into this. And I will do a thorough job. So Dean,” Zachariah says, looking blatantly at him, “this is your chance. If you come clean right now, nothing will be held against you. All penalties, which include five years in federal prison and a small fine of $250,000, will be waved.”

Castiel looks to Dean for his response.

Dean’s eyes shift from Zachariah to Castiel, where he rests his gaze. Castiel can see the war that’s going on inside Dean’s head, but he’s surprised when Dean takes his hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

“Thanks for the offer, but you’ll find nothing that suggests what we have isn’t real. I’d sure like to see you try though,” he says with a wink.

Castiel turns to Zachariah with a smile, hoping it doesn’t look too smug. Zachariah simply laughs and stands up.

“Okay then. I see how it is.” Zachariah shakes each of their hands before opening the door for them. “I hope you don’t mind if I check in on you guys while you visit your family? I’d love to give my congratulations to the groom.” Although the way the question is phased, it sounds like Zachariah will be coming whether he gets an invitation or not.

“Of course not. Lawrence, Kansas. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find out the details yourself,” Dean smiles tightly. Zachariah returns the smile, but it’s not friendly. It’s the kind of smile that someone has when they accept a challenge, eager with the slightest hint of triumph.

“I’ll be in contact.”

Castiel nods once and they both leave, traversing back through the office and emerging into the city. Castiel realizes their hands are still linked together, Dean seeming to notice the same and they both let go. He opens his mouth to say something but Dean starts walking down the street without another word. Castiel stares after him for a moment, confused, before following.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” he asks once he catches up.

“I’m sorry, did you not hear what he was saying in there?” Dean turns on him, making Castiel halt just before running into him.

“Yes, my hearing was perfectly fine,” he says slowly, not sure where this was going. He thought everything was okay. Dean had held up their deal- with quite a convincing act too, given the beginning was a little worrisome. Castiel’s lack of understanding only seems to upset Dean more.

“Do you realize how much trouble we could be in? That _I_ could be in? I can’t afford to go to jail or pay that amount of cash. Hell, I can barely afford to pay my rent!”

“Dean, calm down. It’s all going to be fine-” Castiel says in an attempt to calm him but it doesn’t work and Dean just cuts him off.

“Don’t tell me ‘it’s all going to be fine’! It’s one thing to keep this little arrangement between us but dragging my family into it? That’s crossing the line, Castiel. Even _you_ have to know that.” Dean’s just a notch under shouting the words and Castiel has to smile apologetically at several people giving them questioning looks. He returns his attention to see Dean looking skyward as if some sort of answer is written in the clouds.

Something doesn’t settle well with Dean’s words.

 _Even_ you _have to know that._

Sure, Castiel knew the things people said about him when his back was turned- heartless, cold, a dick. But Dean’s words sting. As if he’s pronounced Castiel a lower creature than the heartless thing people have already made him out to be.

Castiel grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him behind the stone pillar of a nearby building so they have some relative privacy from the curious eyes around them. The last thing they need is Zachariah witnessing their fight. Dean rips his arm away, staring angrily at Castiel once they stop.

“Dean, do you think I wanted to involve more people than necessary? Do I want to take off precious time from one of the most important projects of my career to go play pretend with your family? No. I was trying to save you from floundering with Zachariah. If it wasn’t for me, you would’ve ruined our entire cover,” Castiel tells him, his own voice rising with anger.

“You couldn’t tell him that we’d just call them or something?” Dean spits back, throwing his hands in the air.

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. “He would never have bought that.”

Dean shakes his head. “This is all sorts of fucked up,” he mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“This isn’t ideal for me either,” Castiel mumbles. Dean gives him a long hard look, anger darkening those green eyes that always seem so thoughtful and light.

“Let’s get one thing straight. We do things my way. This is my family so it’s my terms, got it?” Of course, Castiel isn’t happy one bit about this, but he doesn’t exactly have room to argue.

“Alright,” he agrees reluctantly.

“Great,” Dean says sarcastically before a smirk creeps on his face. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe you have a question to ask me.” There’s an evil glint in his eye at the implication and Castiel stares at him in disbelief, but Dean just waits.

“You’re expecting me to propose?”

“That’s generally how it works.”

Castiel searches his eyes for any indication of humor, but all he sees is muted anger behind the smugness. So apparently, Dean is either so angry he’s being cruel, or has lightened up enough for his mischievous side to resurface. Castiel is not sure which he’d rather have. He sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before gazing up at Dean.

“Marry me,” he grits out through a clenched jaw.

Dean snorts. “Seriously? That’s all you got? Let me consider it though.” Dean purses his lips as he mockingly pretends to think it over. “Hmm… I don’t know. I’m just not feeling it,” he hums.

Castiel narrows his eyes before pasting on the brightest smile he can and he sweetens his voice a little too much.

“My dearest Dean Winchester, will you give me extraordinary privilege of taking me as your husband?”

Dean grins. “That’s more like it. But sure, I’ll marry you. See ya tomorrow.” And with that, Dean turns on his heel and walks off, leaving Castiel still on one knee and glaring after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :))  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is more of an expositional chapter, but now it's out of the way :3 Things start to get interesting after this...

Dean sinks back into the leather seat of the Impala, a small sigh of content escaping him. It’s been so long since he’s driven Baby. Too long. But with him living in the city and parking either a bitch to find or stupidly expensive, he hasn’t had much cause to take her out. He feels entirely guilty for her neglect. Was that normal? Oh well, this car is just as much family to him as Sam is.  
  
He glances down at the piece of paper where Castiel’s address is scrawled on it, double checking the information. His smile fades ever so slightly peering at the clear, capitalized letters staring back at him.  
  
Castiel.  
  
Today is the day they’re leaving for Sam’s wedding. It’s Tuesday. Just four days until the wedding on Saturday. All at once, the stress and worry that’s been building inside him weighs heavily on his shoulders.  
  
After their not so little argument following their meeting with Zachariah, Dean had avoided Castiel as much as possible. He just didn’t know what to say to the guy. Castiel tried talking to him once at work but Dean waved him off, telling him to leave it be. They spent the rest of the week together in relative silence, only speaking to each other when they needed to. And when they did, it was with polite yet distant words.  
  
No one at work questioned anything. In fact, Anna and Balthazar seemed to take this as a good sign. Castiel wasn’t constantly riding Dean’s ass and Dean wasn’t making snide comments behind his back. Of course his friends would take their silence as a good thing.  
  
But the curt nods and stilted words were not to be taken at face value. Dean was still reeling over what Castiel had done, only he was past harsh words and shouting, turning to silence before he said something he’d later regret. Castiel is still his boss, after all.  
  
What irritated Dean the most was how Castiel only tried to mend the tension for the sake of work. He didn’t care about Dean or his family. Hell, he didn’t even see what was so wrong about it all.  
  
Dean recalls their conversation on the sidewalk.  
  
_“I’m sorry, did you not hear what he was saying in there?”_  
  
_“Yes, my hearing was perfectly fine.”_  
  
And then the stupid way Castiel squinted his eyes ever so slightly, head tilting like a damn confused puppy. He honestly did not see why Dean was so upset. That pushed Dean over the edge.  
  
It’s worse than purposely pulling a stunt the way he did. How twisted could someone be that they pay no heed to others and haven’t the slightest idea what was so wrong about it? At least when someone sets out to hurt you, they acknowledge what they’re doing would be hurtful. Not Castiel. That’s just who he is though.  
  
Clueless. Indifferent. Always about work. Never about having humanity.  
  
Castiel volunteering Sam’s wedding as a means to ease a private investigator’s suspicions was only half the problem. Dean was not expecting to actually bring home a fake fiancé, much less one he’s been complaining about for the past two years. To his baby brother’s wedding of all places- undoubtedly one of the most important events of his life. He was hoping to get through this situation without getting his family involved.  
  
Even if Dean was being forced to bring Castiel home for the sake of satisfying Zachariah, it certainly wouldn’t have been this weekend. But along with his freedom, Castiel took that decision away from him too.  
  
Dean cringes as his last conversation with Sam plays through his head.  
  
_“Hey Sammy. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday. A lot’s been going on at work.”_  
  
_“Don’t worry about it Dean. So did the jerk finally come around? I mean, taking time off?”_  
  
Dean hesitated, before speaking cautiously, _“Yeah, he did. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that…”_  
  
_“What about it?”_ Sam’s voice loaded with suspicion.  
  
_“Um, well, can I bring him to the wedding? It’s important.”_ Dean spilled out the words as quick as he could.  
  
Silence.  
  
_“…Why?”_  
  
_“Because, Sam, I’m… I’m dating him.”_  
  
More silence.  
  
_“What? Dean, you’re not making any sense.”_ Sam’s innocent confusion made Dean’s heart ache. Damn that son of a bitch for making him do this. _“I thought you hated him? And now you tell me you’re together?”_  
  
_“Oh come on Sammy, hate is such a strong word,”_ Dean tried laughing to lighten the situation. A failed attempt.  
  
_“You said the other day- and I quote- ‘I hope that asshole gets a house dropped on him- preferably one that I created’.”_  
  
Dean grimaces. _“What, you’ve never heard of a little bickering?”_  
  
Sam still wasn’t buying what he was selling. _“Dean, what’s really going on?”_  
  
_“Nothing, Sam. I know our relationship seems a little odd to you, but we’ve gotten to a point where we want to be more open. I want you to meet him. Just give him a chance,”_ Dean begged, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. How terrible he felt feeding the lies to Sam and on top of it, making him feel guilty enough to believe them.  
  
Sam sighed on the other end of the phone, _“Alright Dean. If he really makes you happy, then of course he can come.”_  
  
It’s so painful. Sam is always accepting of Dean and would support him as long as it makes him happy- even when he sounds delusional.  
  
His excuse to Zachariah about not coming out about his preferences had been a lie. Sam always knew Dean played for both teams, even if they never explicitly talked about it. If Sam wasn’t sure before, his suspicions were confirmed when Dean introduced him to his first boyfriend, Aaron.  
  
Dean always figured he liked guys and girls, but he kept it hidden inside himself, scared out of his mind that his family and friends would look at him differently. He should’ve known better though. And when became smitten by Aaron, he knew couldn’t hide it anymore, so he came out to those important to him. Everyone showered him in nothing but support and love, besides John- who really hasn’t been that guy since Dean was little.  
  
But even his dad came around eventually- although Dean knows it’s just one more thing John’s disappointed with.  
  
_“But Dean,”_ Sam’s voice had pulled him from his thoughts, _“why didn’t you just tell me?”_  
  
_“I’m sorry, Sam. I just didn’t know about him myself. But recently, things have been getting… serious and I figured I’d tell you when I thought it got to that level,”_ he said carefully. _“And besides, we try to maintain a professional relationship when it comes to work. Ya know, with him being my boss. These types of things… well, they’re weird to other people. I was worried you might think I was crazy or something…”_  
  
_“Of course not Dean! I mean, I get concerned for you sometimes, but I trust you. Like I said, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy,”_ Sam told him.  
  
Dean shakes the unpleasant conversation out of his mind as he pulls up to Castiel’s apartment complex, a rather nice one looking out over Lake Michigan. He finds a spot in the private parking garage attached to the building and pulls out his phone to text Castiel of his arrival.  
  
After hitting send, he shoves the phone back in his pocket and gets out of the car, walking to the trunk to unlock it and arrange his bags to make room for Castiel’s. He leans against the side of the car facing the elevator as he waits. He takes in a deep breath.  
  
Time to suck it up and focus on the task at hand. If this weekend was going to work and not be for nothing, he had to get over his frustrations. Time to let it go. Soon enough, it will all be over with him and Castiel happily divorced.  
  
The one thought that makes Dean feel better is what he’s getting out of this deal- the opportunity for Bela to see his vision for her new house. This can do amazing things for Dean.  
  
Bela Talbot is two things- beautiful and rich. She’s not exactly famous, but people know her name. One of those high class members of society, though she has an air of mystery to her that no one seems to understand. She mostly keeps to herself.  
  
There’s a lot of speculation as to how she maintains her wealth, given both parents- whom no one has ever heard of- are deceased, she has no known job, and isn’t married to some millionaire showering her with cash and gifts.  
  
People have their theories- some think when she disappears for a weekend, she gambles in rigged poker games like some sort of James Bond movie. Others think that she’s a high class escort to the rich who want to ensure their dirty secrets stay hidden. And Dean’s even heard her be accused of selling drugs- some real crazy shit too.  
  
But Dean doesn’t believe any of that. From what he’s observed of Bela, she’s an incredibly smart woman. And coming from a childhood where he was taught to hustle pool and play cut throat card games by the age of ten, Dean knows a poker face when he sees one. Whatever it is she does, she does it well and knows how to hide her tracks. Dean commends her for that.  
  
It doesn’t matter where she gets her money though. She’s the same as any other high class member of society- concerned with having extravagant possessions, like flashy jewelry and priceless art, or in Bela’s case, a second mansion just for the hell of it.  
  
That’s where Designs of Divinity comes in. Bela’s advisors approached Metatron for this important build. Bela Talbot settles for nothing short of perfect, after all. With a project this vital to furthering the company’s success, it’s safe to say that whoever- Castiel or Bartholomew- gets assigned the job, they’ll be rewarded greatly. It’s all an impressive opportunity to have on the firm’s resume for future clients as well as whichever architect is responsible for executing the project.  
  
Now, from what Dean’s heard about Bela, she’s the type no one wants to cross. He’s read how Bela can destroy reputations if she’s unsatisfied. It makes Dean that much more curious about how such a person got that amount of power without having any sort of obvious talent. Guess the saying ‘money talks’ is Bela’s saving grace. Nevertheless, this is why when she finally makes an appearance and decides whether or not to sign a contract with Designs of Divinity, everything has to be perfect.  
  
And for this one appearance, Dean will get a chance to show Bela his vision for her house. And that one moment can make Dean’s dream become reality. That thought alone makes his shoulders relax.  
  
Then another satisfying thought comes to him.  
  
Oh, he will get his payback with Castiel. Pushing Castiel’s buttons has always made Dean happy in some weird way. Instead of spending the time furious with him, Dean will have fun. He will roll with the punches and he will get through this, like he does with anything else. Sam’s wedding will be beautiful and he will enjoy every damn minute of it.  
  
Just when he’s made his resolutions, the elevator dings, announcing it’s arrival. Dean looks over to see Castiel emerge with one small suitcase and a duffle bag. He has a beige trench coat thrown over a black suit and a crooked blue tie that makes it seem like he just tied it five seconds ago. Dean’s seen this trench coat many times worn over various suits at work, but he’s confused as to why Castiel’s all dressed up.  
  
Dean briefly glances down at his black AC/DC t-shirt, jeans and boots. He doesn’t remember either of them specifying to dress nicely. Maybe this is just how Castiel travels, although it’s weird for a road trip.  
  
Castiel seems to share the same thought because he hesitates in his stride, looking confused. Dean pushes off the side of the Impala and meets Castiel to grab the suitcase for him.  
  
“Well, don’t you look nice,” Dean says with a smirk before hulling it into the trunk. Castiel follows him with his duffle, still looking perplexed.  
  
“Yes. I like to dress nicely when I travel. I have an image to maintain,” Castiel says, setting the bag in the trunk. Dean laughs.  
  
“You don’t have to keep up your image for me, man. But if you’re comfortable wearing that in the car for eight hours, by all means, be my guest,” he says as he slams the trunk closed.  
  
Dean walks to the driver side, still snickering to himself at Castiel’s words. Keeping up an image, huh? Not with a backwards tie like that. But Dean decides not to point any of this out. He’s about to open the door when he realizes Castiel is still standing by the trunk, not having moved an inch and staring at him.  
  
“What do you mean in the car for eight hours?” he asks apprehensively, “I thought we were flying.”  
  
“What? No, of course we’re not flying! I told you about that,” Dean says. And he knows he told Castiel. Right before he left work yesterday, Dean told him to get ready for eight hours of some good, classic rock.  
  
“Dean, I thought you were joking.” Castiel’s clearly not happy with this arrangement. He should join the club.  
  
“Nope. Now get in, we’re wasting time.” Dean climbs into the Impala and starts her up, glancing over to the passenger side for Castiel. He tries not to laugh watching Castiel cringe as he opens the door, the hinges creaking loudly as they’ve always done. This is going to be fun. Castiel climbs in, still not looking happy.  
  
“Ready?” Dean asks, even though he’s already pulling out onto the street.  
  
“This is ridiculous. We’d get there much faster if we fly,” Castiel protests.  
  
“I said we’re not flying. So suck it up, buttercup,” Dean tells him firmly, “Might as well get comfortable.” Castiel just sighs in response, frustration emanating off him in waves.  
  
Oh yes, Dean’s going to enjoy this weekend very much.  
  
“What’s wrong with flying?” Castiel huffs after a moment of silence.  
  
“I hate it. No one can convince me that a flying metal tube is not a death trap waiting to happen,” Dean says. Just the thought of being on a plane makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He gently wipes at his jeans, his palms getting a little damp from the thought. “We need this time to get to know each other anyway. You especially.”  
  
A day after their meeting with Zachariah, he’d emailed them both explaining part of the investigation would include private interviews to check the validity of their relationship.  
  
“And you know so much about me?” Castiel laughs dryly. “Name one thing- something personal.”  
  
Dean thinks for a moment and then smiles. “Alright. You had a tattoo but got it removed a couple months back.” He glances over and grins even wider at the shocked look on his boss’ face.  
  
Castiel clears his throat. “Fine, but doesn’t completely count. You know all my appointments.”  
  
“And I could still pass the interview, as opposed to you.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Come on Cas, you can’t name five things you know about me.” Dean doesn’t realize how easily the name slips past his lips. It pulls Castiel up short and he doesn’t answer for a moment.  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
Dean glances over at him. “What?”  
  
“You called me something different than Castiel.”  
  
He scrunches up his eyebrows. “Did I?”  
  
“Yes. You called me Cas.” Dean thinks for a moment then realizes he did. Why did he do that? He’s never called Castiel anything other than that, sir or Mr. Novak, and maybe some other choice words. He didn’t even realize how natural it sounded to him.  
  
“I guess I did. Sorry,” he murmurs, still bewildered by his own slip.  
  
“I… I like it,” Castiel says quietly. Dean glances over but he’s looking out the window now. If he’s not mistaken, are his cheeks a little pink? Dean licks his lips thoughtfully before turning his attention back to the road.  
  
“Alright then, Cas. Ask away.”  
  


*****

Castiel stares out the window, watching as buildings and trees and cars flash by. Neither of them have talked since leaving the city. Dean had proposed they ask each other questions to get to know each other, which is actually a good idea, but Castiel had no idea where to start.

His eyes wander up to the gray clouds that hang in the sky. They’re not the kind that threaten rain, but keep the rays of sunshine securely hidden away. They’ve only been on the road for about forty minutes and Castiel is already feeling impatient.

But then the rising annoyance that’s usually experienced when interacting with Dean Winchester wanes. He thinks that to that moment Dean called him Cas. He’d said it so casually, Castiel thought he misheard. But no, Dean had called him Cas.

Another blush rises to his cheeks at the stupid feeling he got after hearing it slip from Dean’s lips.

No one’s ever called him anything other than Castiel, Mr. Novak, or Cassie- which is an annoying pet name Gabriel called him when they were little. Still does, actually. And Castiel doesn’t count the other names people call him, which are meant to be more of insults than titles to identify as.

It was just so strange hearing Dean say Cas rather than Castiel. Especially after the week they’ve had. Dean was immensely angry with him for suggesting to Zachariah that they were visiting Dean’s family to attend his brother’s wedding as well as to announce their engagement.

Dean made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want anything to do with Castiel unless there was no avoiding it.

But from the moment Castiel stepped out of that elevator, something felt different. Dean wasn’t avoiding eye contact, wasn’t tense in his shoulders with a distracted look on his face. He was just waiting. Even the small argument they had over the driving felt different. There was no malice behind it.

Maybe that’s why Dean calling him Cas seemed like such a big deal. But that’s ridiculous. He knows that it was just a slip of the tongue. But still… it stirred something in him. A sort of warmth that he can’t explain from a kindness he’s rarely shown.

Despite that, Castiel didn’t feel like talking for the moment. He just wanted to watch the city fade behind them and think about work, repeatedly going over in his head to make sure not one thing was left undone.

After Dean told him to ‘ask away’, Castiel politely told him he’d think about it and they’ve been driving in silence ever since.

“Hey, do you mind handing me that box by your feet?” Dean’s voice startles Castiel’s thoughts. He looks to the box of cassettes and pulls it into his lap.

“Why do you still have cassettes?” he asks as he looks through them. Dean reaches over, pulling one out at random and popping it in to the cassette player. The sound of a guitar fills the speakers and Dean smiles, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel in time with the beat. Castiel raises his eyebrows questioningly at the foreign song.

“ _Heat of the Moment_ by Asia. Sammy hates this song, for whatever dumb reason,” Dean tells him. “And to answer your question- I have cassettes because I like to listen to music,” Dean says as he rocks out to the song.

Castiel rolls his eyes. Smart ass.

“I mean, why cassettes? They have iPods and CDs nowadays.”

Dean scoffs. “Baby doesn’t have the set up for that stuff and I ain’t defacing her with it either. Besides, I don’t have time to fumble with new technology unless it can design a building.”

“I would hardly consider a CD new technology,” Cas mumbles but continues looking through Dean’s collection. He finds names like Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Black Sabbath, Kansas, Lynyrd Skynyrd. “You really do like classic rock,” Castiel notes, rather impressed by the collection.

“I wasn’t lying,” Dean chuckles. “So you think of a question yet?”

Cas sighs. He feels silly asking questions like _‘What’s your favorite color? Favorite food? Summer or winter?’_. He’d only forget the answers as soon as Dean told him.

“No, I haven’t.”

Dean snorts. “Seriously? You can’t think of one question?”

Castiel feels his defenses rise. “I don’t know. This is stupid.” He hates how much of a child he sounds like, but he isn’t used to this. No one’s ever cared to open up to him and he’s been on his own for so long, he hasn’t dared to open up to anyone about, well, anything. It’s all strange to him.

Maybe the problem is that he just doesn’t care.

What’s more frustrating is the troubled expression on Dean’s face. He’s probably thinking right now how Castiel is cold and dead inside, unable to think of one stupid question to get to know him better with.

“Okay, we’ll just start with who you’re gonna meet,” Dean offers. It actually takes Castiel off guard. He was bracing himself for another argument, but the suggestion is kind with no traces of mockery.

Castiel nods, relaxing. “Yes. Let’s start with that.”

Dean thinks for a moment, as if trying to decide where to start.

“Let’s see... I guess I’ll start with the man of the event,” Dean smiles, “my baby brother, Sam. He’s four years younger than me, but man, he grew like a weed,” he laughs. “He went to Stanford to become a lawyer. He recently took the exam and passed with flying colors. He has a good head on him.” Castiel watches as Dean talks about his little brother. Such adoration, such fondness.

“And who is he marrying?” he asks.

“Jessica Moore, but we all call her Jess. She is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met. They met at Stanford and I could not be more proud of him for finding someone like her. I always tease him that she’s way out of his league,” Dean laughs softly to himself. “But I’m happy for them. She’s good for him. Looks after him when I’m not there.”

Castiel nods. “What about your parents?” That’s usually the most challenging obstacle when meeting a significant other’s family, isn’t it? Dean’s expression only darkens. Not a good sign.

“My… my mom,” Dean trails off, staring straight ahead before meeting Castiel’s gaze. He searches Dean’s darkened eyes, uneasiness settling in his stomach with what he finds. Sadness. Distrust. Doubt. Reluctance. Castiel drops his gaze, looking down at his hands in his lap. Of all the anger Dean’s looked at him, especially the past few days, it’s never hit him like it does now.

Dean doesn’t trust him.

And why should he? He has no reason to. Somehow it still hurts though. It makes Castiel feel like a monster. He doesn’t want to actually believe he’s the thing everyone thinks him to be, but it’s said truth has an ugly face.

Castiel studies his hands, about to tell him not to worry about it when Dean continues talking.

“She died when I was young. And John -my dad- hasn’t been the same since,” he mutters. Castiel swallows. He feels like an intruder and desperately wants to escape. _Needs_ to escape.

“I’m sorry,” he offers a weak apology but Dean doesn’t respond. They sit in silence with the exception of the music still playing softly. Finally, Castiel can’t take it anymore and breaks the silence. “How about any friends I’ll be meeting?”

It seems to work. He sees Dean relax out of the corner of his eye, his grip on the steering wheel, which at some point had become so tight that his knuckles turned white, loosens with the blood flowing back into his fingers. “There’s Charlie. You’ll be meeting her for sure. She’s my best friend. She comes off a little strong at first, but she’s awesome. And also a giant nerd, so don’t be surprised if she starts talking about Harry Potter or superheroes.”

“I don’t know any of that stuff though.”

“Oh don’t worry. She’ll give you a crash course,” Dean chuckles, as if remembering some funny memory.

“Anyone else?” Castiel asks, eager to keep Dean talking about happier topics. Dean then proceeds to give him quite the list of names. There’s Bobby Singer, who Dean said was a close family friend, but Castiel got the impression he meant more than that. Probably related to whatever he’s going through with his father.

Then there’s Ellen Harvelle, who is another family friend. She owns a bar called The Roadhouse where almost anyone in Lawrence goes to have a good time. Dean even let him in on a little piece of gossip- he thinks that Bobby and Ellen have a fling going on and is willing to bet money that they’re going public soon.

By the time Dean finishes giving Castiel the rundown, his head is spinning. So many people to keep track of. “You sure know a lot of people,” he points out.

“Yeah. My family- it may not be a family in the traditional sense, but it’s enough for me,” Dean says fondly. Castiel nods, returning his gaze out the window. By now, they’ve been on the road for almost two hours. Still a long way to go.

Castiel thinks over everything Dean told him, trying to picture the various faces that have been described to him. He can’t help but have a nervous fluttering in his stomach.

Why should he be nervous though? Who cares what these people think of him. He’s here for one thing and one thing only- to save his career. And he’s willing to do anything for that. His career is the only thing left he can count on and he’ll be damned if that gets taken away from him.

No, these nervous feelings have got to go. They’ll only get in the way.

“How did she die?” The words are out of Castiel’s mouth before he knows it.

“What?”

“Your mother. How did she die?” The pit in Castiel’s stomach grows. There’s a voice in his head screaming for him to stop talking but he silences it. There’s no doubt he would have to know what happened to Dean’s mother if their relationship will be believable.

The question is met with instant tension. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Cas.”

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually. Zachariah will-“

“Listen, I told you I don’t want to talk about it. So drop it,” Dean interrupts him, voice on edge, but he’s not yelling. Castiel can tell he’s struggling to stay calm and knows pressing Dean further on the subject will only result in a fight. The thought of an uncomfortable silence for the remainder of their little road trip is enough to make Castiel give in to the voice in his head.

He returns to staring out of the window, a mixture of thoughts battling inside his head. Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he just leave Dean alone? The guy’s already told him so much. But he has to know. If he’s going to keep his job, he has to know. There’s no room for sensitivity.

“What about your family?” Dean asks after ten minutes of silence, tone surprisingly calm. Castiel should’ve seen this coming. Of course Dean would ask about his family. He just spent the last hour talking about his. Maybe he can say just enough to satisfy Dean’s curiosity.

“Well, as you heard at the immigration office, I cut ties with my family a long time ago,” he says evenly, hoping it’s enough.

“Except your brother?”

“Yes, kind of. Gabriel and I still talk occasionally but I haven’t seen him in years,” Castiel trails off. He does not want to talk about it. What’s there to say anyway? It’s not like he has all the people Dean has. Just Gabriel. Sometimes.

He feels walls building up around him, trying to shut out the topic that’s left him hurt and disappointed for so many years.

“What about your parents?” Dean’s voice is prodding and the walls slide up further.

“All you need to know is that Gabriel is the only family connection I have. That’s it,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the outside world.

Trees. All blurring together in a flurry of green. It’s the last color he wants to see, but given they’re well outside the city limits now, it’s all that he’ll get to see.

“Come on, give me something Cas,” Dean sighs tiredly.

“Just drop it, Dean.” He purposely uses Dean’s words against him. Castiel’s chest feels tight and he yanks at his tie, desperate to release the constriction around his throat.

No, he definitely does not want to talk about his worthless family, especially with Dean Winchester. Dean, who when he called him Cas just now, made him forget for a fleeting moment that this was all fake, all for a stupid interview that will determine whether or not all of his hard work has been wasted. Dean, who in that half second made Castiel feel like there may actually be someone who cares about him and his story.

But he can’t mistake Dean for a friend. Because he’s not. It’s bad enough the guy loathes him- he just can’t spill his miseries to him. It’ll only end badly.

Dean laughs, but it’s not happy in the slightest. It’s a dry, cold, humorless laugh. “You know, you’re something else.”

Castiel can already feel the harsh words pierce him before they’re even said. He braces himself.

“I just told you about the people that matter the most to me and you can’t even tell me _one_ thing about your parents. _And_ after you just questioned mine? That’s kind of shitty, don’t you think?” Dean's voice is cold and bitter.

“There’s nothing to tell, Dean. My family connections are dead and it wouldn’t matter one way or another if I told you,” Castiel raises his voice, frustration seeping into the words.

“How is that even fair?” Dean counters, sounding beyond frustrated himself.

“It’s perfectly fair! Because you… you have a family, one you are still close to. So yes, I consider your family of greater importance than mine, but all I get is one vague detail about your mother and left to guess what your father could possibly be like.”

Castiel feels like he’s out of breath and he knows he’s gone too far. He sees the muscles in Dean’s forearms tense as he grips the steering wheel tight, as if trying to ground himself to the car.

“What did you say?” Dean’s voice is low. All the anger and frustration drains from Castiel's body, replaced with an overwhelming amount of guilt. But he knows he can’t take the words back now. He can’t even begin to try. “So my mom dying is only a vague detail to you?”

“Dean, I didn’t mean it that way,” Castiel says quietly, but it’s useless. He’s screwed up. Severely.

“And what, everyone else doesn’t matter? They’re not important enough for you to know about? They don’t get as many brownie points as my parents?” Dean continues.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Castiel sighs in defeat. Even though that’s what it sounded like, he didn’t actually mean it that way. He just thought knowing about Dean’s parent’s was a more pressing matter than whether Charlie liked Harry Potter.

“Then enlighten me, Cas. Where were you going with that little statement?” Castiel isn’t sure if Dean’s asking a rhetorical question or expecting an actual answer. But as much as the words bubble in his throat and threaten to spill out, he just can’t.

“I… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” Castiel finally says in a flat tone.

What’s wrong with him? He knows he was crossing the line when he said that. He knows he should tell Dean everything.

But he can’t.

He can’t say the things that have always been buried deep inside out loud to Dean Winchester. He can’t let himself be so vulnerable to a person who probably wants nothing more than to toss him in the middle of nowhere and drive off.

He swallows down his words of explanation along with the guilt that surfaced as well, clearing his mind of the conflicting thoughts. At the end of the day, this is a business arrangement and he will let Dean know what he needs to know in due time. And in a professional manner too.

Emotions have no place here.

Dean says nothing more, only turning up the stereo and effectively signaling the end of their conversation. Castiel turns in his seat so his body faces away from Dean. What a disaster. He decides to watch the green landscape race before him, wanting to run away with it. It isn’t long before sleep consumes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yep.. Hope you enjoyed!  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Dean drums his fingers against the steering wheel, humming along softly with the tune of _Simple Man_ by Lynyrd Skynyrd. A smile ghosts over his lips when he sees the sign verifying Lawrence is only fifteen miles away.  
  
Fifteen miles.  
  
In fifteen miles, he’s going to see his family, the people he’s missed so much. In fifteen miles, he’s going to see his dad again for the first time since he’d left. In fifteen miles, he’s going to present everyone with the biggest lie he’s ever told.  
  
In fifteen miles, there will be no undoing of what he’s done.  
  
The thought pulls the small trace of a smile from his face. He sneaks a glance over to Cas, who is fast asleep and turned awkwardly in the seat, face squished against the window. Damn bastard’s been asleep since their fight earlier, which was about six hours ago. His stomach twists at the thought of facing an awakened Castiel, but it’s not necessarily in anger. Dean's actually not sure what it is. Uncertainty? Nervousness? Neither?  
  
He focuses his eyes back on the darkened, empty road in front of him, mind starting to race.  
  
After their fight, Dean felt a flurry of intense emotions, but there was one thing he just couldn’t understand- what’s going on in Castiel’s head? Dean had started to think that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad. Cas seemed intrigued hearing about his family, like he was actually listening to Dean’s words and soaking up each syllable. But then he just snapped. The tolerable Castiel disappeared and out came the bitter, cold Castiel. And Dean couldn’t understand why.  
  
What happened? What changed in that small moment that put Cas in attack dog mode?  
  
Nevertheless, despite how furious Dean was at what Castiel said, he let his anger go. Granted, this only happened about an hour ago, but he finally got the strength to stop thinking of ways to call the whole thing off. He had to let his anger at Cas go because he had bigger things to worry about.  
  
Like John Winchester.  
  
That’s who Dean’s really been thinking about for the past hour. He hasn’t seen his dad in over two years. He keeps playing out different scenarios in his head, imagining the different ways John might greet him- each ending worse than the last. Dean’s not sure how to handle it all though. When he last saw him, it wasn’t pretty.  
  
_“Enough’s enough. This little hobby of yours can only go so far and now you just want to up and leave for Chicago? You already have a job here.”_ John’s words echoed in his head.  
  
No, that job at the tiny firm he'd been in since finishing school wasn't nearly enough for him. He needed more. And he shouldn't have to explain this to his dad either.  
  
_“Why can’t you just let me do what I want to do for once?”_ Dean fired back.  
  
_“Because it’s unrealistic, Dean. Nothing is going to come out of this and in several years, you’ll get bored or end up nowhere. Such a waste of potential. You’re going to regret this and by then, it’ll be too late,”_ John retorted.  
  
_“It’s what I want, Dad. I’ve spent so long trying to please you, to be the perfect son. I’ve held my tongue, I’ve done whatever you asked me to do, I looked after Sam when you weren’t there-”_  
  
_“Yeah, and look how great that turned out. Your brother’s off in California on his own when he could be here, no thanks to you!”_  
  
Dean had to take a breath at that. Sure, he was sad Sam wanted to go away so badly, but in the end, it’s something that’s going to make him happy, so Dean fought for Sam to have his shot at happiness and for John to finally let him go.  
  
_“I can’t be here anymore, Dad. I need to do this for myself. I want to make something of my life and this is how I can do it. An opportunity like this doesn’t just come along. I’m going to Chicago whether you like it or not. All I ask is you support._ Please.”  
  
John stared at him for a long moment before chuckling bitterly. _“When will you ever grow up?”_  
  
And that was it. The last words he heard his father say to him.  
  
Dean couldn’t tell if he was more furious or hurt by the rhetorical question. Dean always considered himself older than his actual age. He’s the one who packed Sammy’s lunches for school. He’s the one who made sure he was doing his homework. He’s the one who kept the house presentable and had dinner on the table every night for him and Sam and made sure to reheat it for when John came home late after work. And he’s the one who had to maintain peace in the house when John and Sam would have their screaming matches over stupid shit.  
  
But that fight with his dad wasn’t necessarily the end. When Sam would visit home, he would update Dean on how John was. Sam once told him John was sorry for how he acted, but Dean never got a phone call saying otherwise. For all Dean knows, it was just an act for Sam. If he was truly sorry, wouldn’t he have reached out to his son in the two years he’s been gone?  
  
Dean glances back over at Cas’ sleeping figure. He can see the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders despite the lack of light. How the hell could he possibly sleep for this long? And in that position? Dean wants to shake him awake so they can talk before they arrive at The Roadhouse. Make sure they’re on the same page. And another apology from the guy wouldn’t hurt either. He snorts quietly to himself but decides not to wake him. A sleeping Castiel is the best one he’s met so far.  
  
Far too soon, fifteen miles arrives. He takes the exit and follows the familiar road through Lawrence. He debates stopping at the house for a quick moment, maybe to unload their bags, but decides against it. His dad might be there and he isn’t looking forward to that encounter so soon.  
  
Instead, he drives into town, feeling the tightness in his chest slowly subside. Soon, he’ll get to see Sammy and his beautiful bride to be. He’ll be able to throw his arms around him and hug him close and feel the happiness Sam deserves to see Dean have. And for a moment, everything will be alright.  
  
He pulls into the parking lot of The Roadhouse and parks the car near the back. He twists the key from the ignition, letting the Impala’s low purrs fall silent. He gently pats the dash, murmuring an affectionate, “We’re home, Baby.”  
  
He then turns his attention to Cas, who is still dead to the world next to him. He looks so peaceful. Too bad he isn’t like this all the time. A devious smile creeps up on his lips as an idea comes to him. He did say he wanted to have fun during this trip, and fun included pushing Castiel’s buttons.  
  
He slaps his hand against Cas’ hunched back with a loud and cheery, “Rise and shine sleeping beauty!” Castiel has the desired reaction, nearly jumping out of his trench coat and looking around with wide, alarmed eyes. His gaze finally falls on Dean, who’s smirking at him. He groans, leaning back into the seat.  
  
“Don’t do that.”  
  
“I gotta wake you somehow,” Dean shrugs, smile still plastered to his face. That felt good.  
  
“Did you need something?” Cas mutters tiredly.  
  
“Yeah, we’re here.” Castiel’s drooping eyelids fly open, looking at Dean.  
  
“W-what?”  
  
“Yep, show time,” Dean tells him. Cas’ expression becomes troubled and he’s quiet for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts.  
  
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier? I could’ve drove part of the way or something.”  
  
Dean scoffs. “You think I’m gonna let you drive Baby?” Cas rolls his eyes but Dean continues, “It doesn’t matter though. I didn’t mind. Driving helps me clear my head.”  
  
Cas frowns at that, looking down at his hands. He watches him quietly, unsure what to say and just as he’s about to open to door, Cas speaks up. “Dean, I’m sorry… about earlier. I… I shouldn’t have said any of that.” Dean frowns at remembering the words Cas fed him. He searches the side of Cas’ face to find some sort of guilt twisted in his features. At least he’s admitting what did was wrong, which is actually huge for Castiel. There’s a bit of satisfaction that he got another apology. Dean honestly didn’t think Cas’ pride would let him apologize. Not twice anyway. And looking guilty about it? That's different.  
  
“It’s fine. We just gotta move past it if we want anyone to believe us,” Dean tells him. Cas looks up at Dean, expression a mixture of emotions but he nods in response, turning his attention to The Roadhouse.  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
“Ellen’s bar,” Dean says, looking back to the wooden building.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because this is where we’re meeting everyone,” Dean tells him slowly. Didn’t he say all this before?  
  
“We’re meeting them now?” Cas’ voice rises with panic.  
  
“Yeah, I thought I told you,” Dean furrows his brow.  
  
“You certainly did not,” Castiel grumbles, sitting up straighter while trying to straighten his clothes on his body and it makes Dean laugh.  
  
“It’ll be fine. Just no arguing. Think you can manage?”  
  
Cas shoots him a dirty look but Dean is already stepping out of the car, chuckling to himself. A moment later, he hears the passenger door bang shut. Dean takes a deep breath, his nerves starting to get the best of him.  
  
Just breathe. It’ll be fine.  
  
He barely notices that Castiel has joined him a little too closely by the driver side door, waiting for Dean to take the lead and he jumps at the sudden closeness. Personal space, much?  
  
“Lead the way,” Castiel instructs and it makes Dean snicker. His eyes fall on Cas’ hair, which has become even more disheveled than normal from his nap in the car. For some reason though, it calms him. He finds it endearing in a way- it's fucking weird.  
  
“You might wanna fix that hair of yours,” Dean tells him before strolling up the path to the entrance.  
  
To his relief, no one’s there yet. Well, none of his family, that is. The place is packed with people either congregated in booths and tables or huddled together at the bar or around the pool table. Dean sees Ellen behind the counter mixing drinks and chatting with people, a friendly smile on her face. But there’s no sign of anyone else. As soon as Dean’s about to seek out a table, Ellen catches his eye.  
  
“I’m going to the bathroom.” He barely hears Cas tell him over the music and camaraderie that fills the air. He nods absently before shouldering his way through the people to the bar, leaning on his forearms against the counter.  
  
“Dean Winchester, it’s about time,” Ellen says in her trademark scolding tone that she usually uses with Dean, but her lips are turned upwards into a smile.  
  
“Ellen, it’s been too long,” Dean smiles back, happy to see a familiar face. Ellen hands a patron their bottle of beer before slapping Dean’s arms.  
  
“No elbows on the counter. Did you leave your manners in Chicago, boy?” This makes Dean chuckle and he straightens up.  
  
“Aw c’mon Ellen. I’ve seen you no more than ten seconds and you gotta lecture me on manners?” She rolls her eyes but flips open a part of the countertop on the side of the bar, stepping out and giving him a hug.  
  
“It’s been too long, kid,” she says quietly.  
  
Dean hugs her back tightly. “I know.”  
  
She steps back, giving him a look over, eyebrows scrunching together in concern. “You look exhausted. That job of yours treating you well?”  
  
The motherly tone in her voice sends warmth through Dean but he hides it, not wanting to get all sappy, especially before seeing everyone else. He waves a hand dismissively at her, “Yeah yeah I’m fine, Ellen- don’t you worry about me. A whiskey wouldn’t hurt though.” Ellen gives him a disapproving look before returning behind the counter.  
  
“Is that who I think it is?” A voice calls behind him. The sound immediately brings a smile to his face and he turns only to be taken off guard by a hug that knocks the air out of his lungs. He stumbles backwards, spitting out a tuff of red hair that flew in his mouth but he’s laughing.  
  
“Hey Charlie.”  
  
She backs up from him, the widest smile plastered on her face, and punches him in the shoulder. “Dean! It’s been way too long!”  
  
Dean makes a mock hurt face, rubbing his shoulder dramatically. “Charlie, you just visited me two weeks ago.”  
  
“Exactly. Do you know how long that is in best friend years?” She crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at him. He’s about to reply when she gets lifted away from him, protesting to whoever dared move her. Dean’s gaze makes his way up to Sam’s face and a small lump forms in his throat.  
  
“Sammy,” he chokes out before embracing his brother tightly.  
  
“Hey Dean,” Sam chuckles, but holds tight to his brother. “What happened to no chick flick moments?” he adds after a moment of hugging.  
  
This is enough to make Dean pull away and he rolls his eyes. “Can’t a guy hug his brother?” A small blonde bounces her way next to Sam, eyes shining bright.  
  
“Dean!” Jess throws her arms around him, voice like a happy melody.  
  
“Hey Jess. Look at you, beautiful as ever,” Dean smiles as he hugs her. “I hope you’ve been keeping an eye on Sammy here,” he says as he pulls away, giving Sam his signature smirk.  
  
“Of course! Honestly, I don’t know what he’d do without me,” she giggles, looking up at Sam with pure adoration.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around her in a way that suggests he might just toss her over his shoulder and hull her away. She laughs louder, folding into his arms as she braces herself for possible lift off.  
  
Dean just takes in the sight of the two of them. Damn. Sam is damn lucky. And Dean can’t help but feel the lump in his throat grow bigger, happiness taking over his body. This is what he’s been waiting for.  
  
“Hey idjit, don’t I get a hug too?” Bobby asks accusingly from behind Sam and Jess.  
  
“Aw, don’t feel left out Bobby,” Dean says, pulling Bobby in. It’s a brief hug, but a good one. Bobby hugs Dean tight, giving him a couple pats on the back before stepping back. Now if anyone isn’t a fan of the lovey-dovey moments, it’s Bobby. But despite his grumpiness, Dean knows he likes them. Dean looks behind Bobby only to find there’s no one else waiting to greet him.  
  
“Um, where’s Dad?” he asks no one in particular.  
  
“Damn fool insisted on finishing the car he’s been working on for a week now. Said he’d swing by soon,” Bobby informs him.  
  
Dean can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. You’d think after not seeing your son for over two years, it might be important to show up on time. But then again, Dean wants to soak up this time with the people who don’t make him want to punch a wall.  
  
“So Dean,” Charlie’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “where’s this Lucifer-inhabited boyfriend of yours?” Oh crap. He forgot about Cas. Where did he say he went again?  
  
The sound of someone clearing their throat makes the faces standing front of Dean go wide eyed and he spins around to see Cas standing behind them, completely expressionless.  
  
Fuck.  
  


*****

  
Castiel glances in between the faces staring at him, each with a muffled sense of panic. He finally lets his gaze fall on Dean, who looks surprised to see him, oddly enough. They did come here _together_ , after all.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean seems to remember what’s going on and turns back to the four individuals before them.

“So everyone, this is Castiel,” Dean motions to him and he nods politely to them, unsure what to say after hearing that comment the redhead made. Lucifer, huh? He can't exactly say worse worse things have been said about him- how does one top Satan? But maybe he should be flattered it’s an upgrade from being called a demon. At least Lucifer- Satan title aside- is an angel. Still, it’s not a good start.

Dean proceeds to introduce each of them and Castiel shakes their hands in greeting.

“And yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” Dean practically spits out the word as if it’s poison. Castiel is taken off guard when he feels a hand wrap around his waist and then pulls him close. He gives Dean an awkward smile, unsure what to do with his body as it clashes ungracefully against Dean’s.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” Castiel says, desperate to break the uncomfortable cloud that hangs above them all.

“We’re glad to finally meet you, Castiel. We’ve heard so much,” Sam offers with a smile.

Charlie snorts, trying to stifle a laugh, “Oh yes, we’ve heard plenty.”

“Is that the boyfriend you failed to introduce to me, Dean?” A woman’s voice sounds behind them and Dean turns to face the sound, pulling Castiel around with him.

“Sorry Ellen, my bad. Cas, this is Ellen Harvelle, owner of this fine establishment. Ellen, Castiel Novak,” Dean rushes out.

Castiel offers his hand to her automatically, giving her a polite smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ms. Harvelle.”

Ellen sweeps her eyes over Castiel and it makes him want to squirm. Given what Dean’s told him about Ellen in the car, he’s gotten the motherly vibe from her so he especially wants to make a good impression on her.

After what seems like forever, Ellen finally takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. “Please, just Ellen.” She drops his hand, eyes flickering to the rest of the group. “Why don’t I get a round for you guys? You all look like you could use a drink.”

The others murmur in agreement and Dean pipes up before Ellen can turn away. “Ellen, it’ll be on me.”

“Dean, don’t you dare,” Sam protests, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Sam, I swear to God if you pull out your wallet, I’m gonna make you take ten shots,” Dean threatens, glaring at his brother.

Sam rolls his eyes. “C’mon, you’re here for _my_ wedding. It’s all on me.”

“And I’m your _best man_ , so therefore it’ll be on me,” Dean counters, nodding to Ellen who returns to the bar for the drinks.

“Still stubborn as always,” Sam mumbles and Dean smiles triumphantly.

“You have no idea,” Castiel finds himself muttering under his breath. There’s a quiet over the group and he looks up to see all eyes are on him, including Dean’s, who looks surprised. He feels his cheeks start to heat up. Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Hey, you’re one to talk,” Dean says, his face falling back into his smirk. Castiel stares at Dean, unsure of what just happened.

A laugh pulls him back to reality and he sees the source is Charlie. “Let’s save the bickering and grab a table, yeah?”

The tension seems to lift as the others give a soft laugh and migrate towards a large corner booth. Castiel steps aside to allow Dean to slide in first so he could have the end, not exactly keen on sitting next to anyone else but Dean. Dean has other plans though. He shakes his head and stands aside for Castiel to slide in first.

He clenches his jaw, wishing Dean would just allow him this small comfort zone. And he’s not going to back down.

“C’mon Castiel, I want to sit next to you! Dean’s a jerk who steals all my fries,” a voice calls to him. He shifts his glare from Dean to Charlie, who’s patting the cushioned seat of the booth next to her with a smile. Castiel looks back to Dean who has a smug look on his face and Castiel sighs inwardly. Dean may have won this time, but he’ll get his revenge.

He slides into the booth next to Charlie with Dean taking up the spot next to him at the end. “Maybe you should learn how to properly defend your fries,” Dean says to Charlie from across Castiel.

“If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll get, Winchester,” Charlie warns him. Dean opens his mouth to respond when Ellen shows up with a tray of bottles, setting them all down on the table. Castiel reaches for a bottle, feeling the urge to down the beer just to take this edge off. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dean reach for a lone glass of dark liquid. Whiskey, perhaps?

“You all want the usual?” Ellen asks them, not even bothering to pull out a note pad. They all hum and nod, but Castiel is lost.

“Um, do you have a menu?” he asks awkwardly. Ellen’s eyes land on Castiel, as if she forgot he was there, and starts to dig around in her little black smock for the requested item when Dean holds his hand up to stop her.

“Give him what I’m having.”

Ellen looks to Castiel for confirmation and all he can do is nod dumbly. “Um, yes, I guess I’ll have whatever that is.” With a nod, Ellen is off again to fulfill their orders.

Bobby asks Sam how they’ve been feeling with the wedding preparations and everyone erupts into wedding talk, giving Castiel the perfect opportunity to talk privately with Dean while the others are distracted.

“What was that?” he whispers to Dean.

Dean tears his eyes from the conversation to looks at Castiel with knitted eyebrows. “What was what?”

“You ordered for me.”

Dean purses his lips as he considers this. “I’m not following.”

Castiel huffs. “You didn’t have to do that. Besides, how do you even know I’ll like this mystery dish you’ve ordered me?”

Dean chuckles under his breath. “Because, Cas, I’m starving and I didn’t wanna wait on you to weigh the pros and cons of each entre.”

Castiel narrows his eyes at him. “I do not-“

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it. And if you don’t then I’ll pay for something else for you,” Dean says, although he looks entirely confident in himself.

“Alright fine,” he concedes, taking a sip of his beer.

Castiel remains relatively quiet as they all catch up with Dean, but listening and observing everyone closely.

Ellen arrives about fifteen minutes later with a shaggy looking guy carrying two trays of food. She sets down each plate in front of their respective owner, although it doesn’t look like something in a restaurant setting. It looks intimate- the way she carefully sets down the plate and how the recipient’s face lights up with gratitude and offers their thanks to her, as if it was more than food she was giving them.

“Hey Ash, it’s great to see you again!” Dean greets and the guy with the mullet lands a slap on Dean’s back.

“Welcome home, man. Brought back a souvenir, I see,” Ash says, eyes flickering over to Castiel.

Dean gives a nervous laugh. “Yeah, um, this is Cas, my boyfriend.”

Ash nods in greeting to Castiel, who gives a small, awkward wave. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat but I gotta get back to the bar,” he says to Dean.

“Ash, I told you I’d do that,” Ellen protests but Ash waves her off.

“You’ve been on your feet all day. Just take fifteen minutes to yourself, will ya?” Ash doesn’t even wait for her response before he’s disappearing through the crowd.

Ellen rolls her eyes and slides into the booth next to Bobby, plucking a fry from his plate. This causes everyone to hungrily dig into their food. Castiel looks down at the mystery meal Dean ordered for him.

It’s a giant burger loaded with everything except onions nestled in a bed of fries. He cautiously picks up the burger, careful not to let the contents fall out from between the buns and readies himself to take a bite.

“Moment of truth,” he hears Dean say and Castiel shoots him a dirty look before taking a bite.

The flavors mingle deliciously in his mouth as he chews and a small moan rises in his throat. Damn, this is a fine burger. He can’t even remember the last time he had a burger this good. His dinners usually consist of the take out Dean frequently gets for them or expensive steak dinners that he attends for work purposes. This is definitely a pleasant change. He looks up to see everyone watching him with raised eyebrows and amused grins.

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Ellen says, a glitter in her eye replacing the skeptical look she wore earlier.

Castiel swallows the bite and nods appreciatively at her. “Yes, this is quite excellent.”

“Told ya you’d like it,” Dean says smugly before taking the first bite of his burger, closing his eyes as he savors the taste.

Castiel resists the urge to roll his eyes, although he is curious as to how Dean knew for certain he would like this particular dish. Perhaps Dean really did know him better than he originally thought.

Castiel takes another bite of his burger, enjoying the comfortable silence that’s settled over the table as everyone eats. Although, something still feels off. He glances up to see Sam staring at him from across the booth, expression unreadable.

Sam’s eyes flicker away when they meet Castiel’s, looking embarrassed that he was caught staring. He sees Sam open his mouth as if he’s about to say something but Castiel decides to beat him to it.

“So, Sam and Jess, how long have you two been together?” It’s a fair enough question that makes for easy conversation. And it keeps anyone from asking him personal questions he doesn’t feel like answering.

Sam and Jess exchange a small smile before Sam answers. “Six years.”

“C’mon Sammy, tell him the story of how you two met,” Dean says through a mouthful of fries.

Jess giggles and Sam blushes a light pink shade. “I don’t want to bore him with the details.”

“I’ll happily tell him,” Jess says, smiling mischievously at Sam before looking to Castiel. “We met at Stanford. It was the first day of Sophomore year and I was late to my first class- a dreadful 8 am. The campus was pretty empty because everyone hates 8 am’s-“ Sam snorts at this, shaking his head gently.

“So I’m practically running to class and I see this guy sitting on the ground with his face in his hands and muttering some choice words. I felt bad for him so I stopped and asked if he needed help,” Jess explains, her smile widening.

“Let me just say I was having a pretty terrible morning,” Sam interjects.

Jess nods sympathetically and continues on. “He was completely hung over and looked like he was going to puke any second.”

“And I may have started going crazy spewing off about how much of a mistake going to college was,” Sam says, looking down at his lap.

Jess rubs her hand gently against his back. “I felt so bad for him. I sat next to him and gave him some Advil and my water bottle. Told him not to give up. Then we just started talking a bit- he was telling me how his brother,” Jess shoots a grin at Dean, “got him completely drunk the night before. It completely slipped our minds that we had to go to class and it turns out we were both headed to the same one. But he still refused to go.”

Jess bites her lip to hide the smile that she’s desperately trying to control. Castiel takes this as his cue to ask, “And why was that?”

“Because in all the crap that happened that morning… I lost my shoe,” Sam says, the pink blush deepening to red. The table bursts out laughing, Dean the loudest of them all.

“How does an idjit like you lose a shoe?” Bobby asks in a mock scolding voice, but his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“I, uh, stepped in some dog shit and it reeked. So I tried to scrap it off against the side of a drain and, well, my shoe fell off,” Sam explains, keeping his eyes on his lap.

Dean can barely contain his laughter next to Castiel, who cracks a smile. He’s got to admit, it’s an interesting story.

“Only you, Sammy,” Dean says once he can stand to speak through his chuckling.

“And it top it off, I had the biggest crush on her all through freshman year. Imagine how embarrassing that the person you’ve been crushing on meets you in the most pathetic way possible,” Sam says. Jess giggles and plants a kiss on Sam’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way,” she tells him, eyes full of adoration.

Sam’s face lights up as he lifts his head to give her a soft kiss on the lips. “And that’s why you’re amazing,” he tells her.

“Alright, enough mushy stuff,” Bobby grunts, taking a drink of his beer and Sam snickers, taking a bite out of his chop salad.

“Hey Dean, you might wanna help your boyfriend out,” Castiel hears Jess say. He glances up at Dean in confusion, Dean returning the same look.

“With…?”

Jess bites her lip to keep from smiling, her finger brushing against the corner of her mouth. Dean’s eyes slide back to Castiel and rest on his mouth. Shit, he had something there, didn’t he?

He immediately reaches for a napkin but stops when Dean’s finger softly wipes away a smudge of ketchup. Castiel tries not to gape in surprise when Dean actually licks the ketchup off his finger.

“Uh, thank you,” Castiel stammers, completely stunned at what just occurred- especially the sight of Dean licking his finger.

Dean shrugs as he takes another big bite out of his burger, although Castiel can see a small glimmer of amusement in his eye. Well, they _are_ supposed to look like a couple.

“Your turn,” Castiel feels Charlie poke him.

“Um, excuse me?” he asks, giving her a questioning look.

“How you and Dean came to be! Duh,” she exclaims like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh,” Castiel looks to Dean next to him, who appears just as lost. “I don’t think it’s really that interesting,” he starts to say.

“Aw come on guys, we wanna hear it!” Jess says with a pleading smile.

“Well-“ Dean starts but he’s cut off by new voices.

“Look who finally rolled back into town.” Castiel glances up to see the source of the voice is an older man with dark hair in an oil stained shirt and jeans. Standing next to him is a small blonde with matching oil stains on her clothes. He feels Dean tense next to him and he knows this can’t be good.

“Hi Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed :)  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

“Doesn’t your old man get a hug?”  
  
The man is standing with open arms, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dean hesitates before sliding out of the booth and giving him a stiff embrace.  
  
Dean then turns to the woman beside his father, Castiel’s gaze following, and smiles gently at her. “Hey Jo.”  
  
“It’s good to see you again, Dean,” she returns the smile sweetly as Dean hesitantly wraps his arms around her.  
  
Castiel stares at them, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his stomach. Charlie coughs quietly beside him, the word “awkward” concealed in it, although no one hears it. No one except Castiel.  
  
When Dean pulls away, he gestures to Castiel. “Um, this is Castiel my… boyfriend.” He doesn’t miss the way Dean grits out the word ‘boyfriend’. “Cas, this is my dad, John and this is Jo, Ellen’s daughter.”  
  
Castiel automatically offers his hand in greeting to them. John stares at it but doesn’t move to accept it, but Jo, after seeing John not move an inch, extends her hand to meet his. “Welcome to Lawrence,” she tells him with a polite smile.  
  
The three of them stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do with themselves, Dean looking anywhere but at the faces around him.  
  
“Are you going to sit or stand the whole night, John?” Bobby grunts, breaking the tension.  
  
John chuckles and pulls over two chairs for him and Jo while Dean settles beside Castiel once again.  
  
“I hope we weren’t interrupting anything,” Jo apologizes, stealing a few fries from Dean’s plate.  
  
“No, of course not. Dean and Castiel were about to tell us how they met,” Charlie says.  
  
John’s gaze falls on them, a smile that causes Castiel’s skin to crawl spreads across his face. “Well, I’d love to hear this.”  
  
“Really guys, it’s nothing too amazing. We met at work and over time… I don’t know, we spend a lot of time together so it just kinda happened,” Dean says before downing the rest of his drink.  
  
“But I will tell you he was extremely nervous when he had his interview with me,” Castiel says, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. They seemed to like when Castiel teased Dean earlier. Besides, they have to sell this relationship and, at least to Castiel, it’s not exactly their best performance.  
  
This seems to catch Dean off guard and he scoffs. “I wasn’t that nervous.”  
  
“I don’t know Dean, you seemed pretty anxious before you even got to the place,” Sam says with an amused smirk.  
  
“Yeah, but not because of _him_ ,” Dean retorts, jabbing a thumb at Castiel.  
  
Castiel can’t help but laugh at this. “Oh please Dean. You were practically shaking when I interviewed you.” And it’s true. Castiel still remembers walking into the office and staring into those green eyes for the first time- seeing the nervous excitement turn into something else… but what, he can’t be too sure. He still recalls the way Dean seemed frozen in place when Castiel walked into the room and then nearly tripped over himself to get up and shake his hand.  
  
“No I wasn’t,” Dean says looking down at his lap, but Castiel can see a light tint of pink spreading across his cheeks.  
  
“And he couldn’t stop stuttering to save his life,” Castiel continues and he can almost hear the way Dean’s voice shook as he scrambled to respond to Castiel’s questions, seeming to lose his focus every they made eye contact.  
  
Charlie laughs beside him. “That sounds like Dean alright. He’s pretty smooth until he has a crush on someone.”  
  
“Well, you should’ve seen the way he was after he hired me,” Dean looks up from his lap, lips twisted into a devious smirk. His words make Castiel squint at him.  
  
“And how exactly was that?”  
  
“Oh please Cas, I’d catch you checking me out,” Dean chuckles and Castiel’s face heats up.  
  
“I was not ‘checking you out’,” he protests, using his fingers as air quotes around Dean’s absurd words.  
  
“Dude, you totally were! Because then you'd realize I caught you staring and assign me more useless shit to do to cover for it.”  
  
Castiel sputters for a moment and the others laugh. “That’s not true,” is all he can get out, as unconvincing as it sounds.  
  
“Don’t be embarrassed, Cas. We live in a city of art, it’s okay to stop and admire it from time to time,” Dean winks, voice low and seductive. It makes Castiel’s heart rate speed up and he swallows thickly. Damn him. He’s playing dirty now. But he won’t get away with this.  
  
“Isn’t it considered inappropriate to date your boss?” John, who’s remained quiet throughout the conversation, questions, making everyone else’s laughter fall quiet.  
  
There’s a long, uncomfortable silence before Ellen slaps John on the back, “Hey, why don’t you, me and Bobby play a round of darts? I still want a rematch from last time.”  
  
John grunts a “you’re on,” to her and grabs his beer before walking across the bar with Ellen and Bobby following, leaving behind a thick cloud of tension to hover above the booth.  
  
“Dean-“ Sam begins to say but Dean is already getting to his feet.  
  
“I need another. You guys want anything?”  
  
They all shake their heads and Dean shrugs before making his way to the bar with slumped shoulders. Castiel stares after him, thinking maybe he should join him but Jo beats him to it.  
  
“I’ll go talk to him,” she says, rising from her chair and following after him. Castiel narrows his eyes as he watches her go. What’s up with that? He’s certain Dean told him there was no one else in the picture.  
  
“You must be thrilled right about now,” Sam says to Castiel with a sigh.  
  
“What do you mean?” he asks, although he knows perfectly well what Sam means.  
  
Sam gestures vaguely over to his father. “Well, all of that.”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “I’m sure he just needs time to adjust to the idea.”  
  
He can’t help but glance over at his shoulder at Dean and Jo leaning against the bar, Dean tossing back a shot while Jo murmurs close to him. He tears his gaze away. This is stupid. He shouldn’t be staring, but he can’t help but be curious what’s going on with them.  
  
He picks at the label of his beer bottle, sifting through his mind for whether Dean mentioned anything about Jo during the car ride, but he comes up with nothing. He glances up at the other three and sees them all giving each other looks as their eyes flicker towards the same scene Castiel was just observing.  
  
“So, Jo is Ellen’s daughter?” Castiel asks casually.  
  
Sam, Jess and Charlie share a sympathetic look before Charlie turns to Castiel. “Yes. Um, has Dean mentioned anything about Jo to you?”  
  
He shakes his head slowly. “No, he hasn’t.”  
  
Charlie sighs, looking back to Sam and Jess as if asking permission to say something.  
  
Sam shakes his head. “Don’t do it Charlie. He’ll be pissed.”  
  
Charlie huffs in annoyance. “That’s his own fault then. Cas has a right to know.”  
  
“Know what, exactly?” Castiel prompts but they don’t hear him.  
  
“Maybe he’s been meaning to. You know how he is. He opens up when he wants to. Doing anything before he’s ready won’t end well- it never does,” Sam argues.  
  
Charlie shakes her head. “Screw that. He should at least know who she is, then Dean can explain the rest to him.”  
  
“Explain what to me?” Castiel asks a little louder.  
  
All three pairs of eyes rest on him again and Charlie takes an uneasy breath. “Look Cas, there’s something you should know about those two,” she nods over to Dean and Jo.  
  
“If he gets upset, it’s on you,” Sam interjects and Charlie rolls her eyes.  
  
“I’m not scared of him. There’s a reason he’s my best friend. He knows I’m always right,” Charlie says and Sam snickers in response.  
  
Castiel can feel his patience wearing thin. He just wants them to spit it out since apparently whatever this is isn’t good news for Castiel.  
  
“Jo and Dean… well, they have some… history together,” Charlie starts, picking her words carefully.  
  
“What kind of history?” Although he has a pretty good idea what Charlie means, he needs to hear it.  
  
“The romantic kind. She’s his ex and well, it’s really complicated. I just- it’s really not our place to say what happened. I’ll leave that part up to Dean. But you deserve to know she’s not just his friend. Their relationship right now is a complex one.”  
  
Castiel worries the inside of his cheek at her words. So Dean and Jo dated before. And from the looks of it, Castiel can’t tell who ended it. They both seem like they’re testing the waters, but drawn to each other nonetheless.  
  
“How long have they been separated?” he asks, trying to sound indifferent about it all.  
  
“About two years now,” Sam supplies.  
  
Interesting. Right before Dean came Chicago. Castiel vaguely wonders if the two are correlated.  
  
“There’s no reason to worry though. I seriously doubt they’d get back together,” Jess says in a weak attempt to comfort him and seems to realize what she said and her eyes widen. “I mean, of course he has you now! He’s not going to ruin that or do something regrettable-“  
  
Sam, arm draped around her shoulders, squeezes her to him softly to make her stop rambling and Jess’ face turns bright red. “Sorry, I just mean that you don’t have to worry, Castiel.”  
  
He scoffs. “Worry? Thank you for the concern, but I know if it was something to be concerned about, Dean would've let me know.” He takes a long pull at his drink despite his words.  
  
Why should he care anyway? As long as this thing with Jo doesn’t get in the way of their deal, Castiel could care less what Dean does and whom he does it with. There aren’t exactly high morals in their ‘relationship’.  
  
About five seconds later, Dean is plopping back down next to Castiel with Jo sliding into one of the open spots left by Ellen and Bobby.  
  
They spend the rest of the evening chatting in the booth about wedding stuff. Castiel mostly listens, asking polite questions here and there and giving the occasional smile.  
  
When it’s time to leave, Castiel practically drags himself into the Impala. He feels so exhausted despite having slept six hours on the way here. So much to take in, so much to process.  
  
The car ride to the house is quiet. Castiel goes back and forth on whether to ask about Jo or not, but by the time he makes his decision, they’re parking in front of Dean’s old house with Sam and Jess pulling up behind them in the driveway. Ellen had to return to the bar and John and Bobby decided to have another round and keep her company. Charlie went home, so now it’s just the four of them.  
  
Dean hulls their luggage out of the trunk and they make their way inside, Sam and Jess following behind them.  
  
“So, how’s he been?” Dean asks Sam when he closes the front door behind them. Castiel guesses they’re talking about John.  
  
Dean smiles, although it’s empty of any emotion. “Well, I guess that beats him hanging around here and drinking.”  
  
Sam yawns, stretching his long arms. “Yeah, I suppose. So you guys have your old room. Jess and I are in the guest bedroom if you need anything.”  
  
Dean nods, bidding them a good night before making his way up the stairs. Castiel wishes them a good night too before following after Dean.  
  
When he walks into the room, he groans inwardly at the sight of the lone bed. He isn’t sure what he was expecting. Maybe bunk beds? But no, there’s just one bed with just enough room for two people.  
  
“You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor,” Dean mumbles as he unzips his duffle bag and digs around in it.  
  
“We should’ve gotten a hotel room,” Castiel mutters under his breath as he slings the suitcase onto the bed.  
  
Dean sighs. “Can we please just not fight tonight?”  
  
Castiel feels a retort rise in his throat but he relents and focuses on finding something to wear to bed. He usually sleeps in just his undergarments, but that’s clearly out of the question as long as he’s sharing a room with Dean. Unfortunately, he has no comfortable bottoms, but he does have a soft, dark gray t-shirt that’ll serve as something comfortable to sleep in.  
  
He leaves the room without a word, finding the bathroom down the hall and changes. He splashes some cold water on his face to try and clear his head but it’s no use. After stalling as long as he can, he pads back to Dean’s room to find Dean has made himself a makeshift bed on the floor, consisting of a lone blanket and pillow.  
  
Dean glances at him briefly as he walks in but looks away swiftly, eyes troubled. Castiel hurriedly climbs into bed, pulling the covers over his body and settles into the pillows, blushing. He thought about asking Dean to avert his eyes given he was in his boxers, but Dean would’ve poked fun at him for it and he requested no fighting tonight. He’ll just have to pick up some sweatpants tomorrow or something.  
  
He reaches over, clicking the lamp off and leaving them both in darkness. As tired as he is though, there’s still something nagging him in the back of his mind.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
“What, Cas?”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me about Jo?”  
  
Quiet.  
  
“I thought I mentioned her.” Castiel rolls his eyes at this. He can see right through the blatant lie.  
  
“No, you didn’t.”  
  
“Well, there’s not much to tell. If you need to know something, I’ll tell you,” Dean says and Castiel can hear him shift his position on the floor. Castiel’s far from satisfied with this answer, ignoring how he’s contradicting what he told the others earlier.  
  
“But something happened between you two, correct?”  
  
“I guess you can say that. It’s not a big deal though.” There’s a pause and Dean’s voice becomes edgy. “Did one of them say something to you about me and her?”  
  
Castiel begins to confirm Dean’s suspicions but stops himself. He doesn’t exactly want to throw Sam and Jess and Charlie under the bus. What if he needs more information in the future? They wouldn’t dare tell him anything else if they knew he ratted them out.  
  
“No, just something I observed.”  
  
He hears Dean make a noise- maybe a chuckle?- but says nothing more and Castiel takes this as the end of that conversation. He rolls over on his side and closes his eyes, ready for sleep to take him.  
  


*****

The sound of a loud ringing fills the room, startling Dean awake. The sheets rustling give away Cas’ shuffling on the bed and the ringing continues obnoxiously. Dean groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Dean, where’s my phone?” Castiel asks in a scratchy morning voice.

Dean pulls the covers over his head. “Have you tried checking your bag?”

There’s more shuffling but still no relief from the incessant ringing. “It’s not here,” Cas says impatiently.

“Well I don’t know, Cas!” Dean snaps and Castiel huffs in frustration. “Did you leave it in your pants pocket last night?” Dean offers, wanting more than anything to just go back to sleep.

The mattress springs creak as Castiel climbs out of bed to check and then the ringing finally stops.

“Hello, this is Castiel Novak,” he greets robotically. “Bartholomew, what do you- Look, I took care of everything before I left, there should be no reason to- no, that wasn’t part of the arrangement. Metatron did not grant you access to-“

Dean growls, throwing the covers off his head and shooting a deadly glare at the walking alarm clock. “Cas! Some people are still trying to sleep here!”

Castiel rolls his eyes but disappears from Dean’s room and ten seconds later, he hears the front door open and close. Dean wonders how long it’ll take him to remember he’s still pants-less. He leans back into his pillow with a tired sigh, feeling the ache in his lower back. Sleeping on the floor sucks. Maybe he can still get some decent sleep though, even just for a few hours.

Dean gets to his feet, wincing at the tightness in his back and gathers his pillow and blanket, tossing them on the bed before climbing in. He snuggles into the soft pillows and sighs in relief. It’s not like it’s a top quality mattress- hell, it’s been in here since his early teen years. But it feels so much better. Cas will just have to get an early start to his day because Dean is not moving from this spot. He pulls the blankets close to his face and closes his eyes, welcoming sleep’s return.

“Hey, I’m glad you guys are up! We’ve got a lot to do today,” Sam’s voice sounds from the doorway, making Dean jump.

“Can’t a guy sleep in for once?” he grumbles, peeking over the covers at his brother who has an amused smile painted on his face.

“Welcome to my world. C’mon, you’re the pancake master and we’re starving.”

Dean sighs loudly, “Fine. I’ll be down in a few.” He doesn’t move for a couple minutes after Sam leaves. He just got so comfortable in the bed and his body feels exhausted after all the events of yesterday and the thought of all that’s still to come.

He finally musters up the energy and sits up, the pain in his back and neck still prominent. Maybe he should make Cas sleep on the floor…

He shakes his head and gets to his feet, yawning as he makes his way to the bathroom. He sheds his clothes and turns the shower on, not bothering to wait and he sucks in a breath when cold water assaults him. Soon enough, it heats up and he relaxes his tensed body. For a moment, he leans his forearm against the cool tile and rests his forehead against it while he relishes the effects the warm water has on his sore back. He finds his mind flashing back to yesterday.

His reunion with John went exactly how he'd thought it would go. Absolutely shitty. But it's not like he was expecting anything else. What really threw him off was the person he arrived with. 

Jo.

She’d joined him at the bar after John’s not-so-friendly concern about his and Cas’ relationship, asking if he needed to talk or anything. He, of course, declined and settled for taking a few shots instead to help him quiet his thoughts- which is funny because in a different time, she would've been the one he vented to besides Charlie. 

Then she moved on to the second subject Dean didn’t want to discuss- Castiel. She was genuinely curious about the dude, but she seemed happy that Dean finally found someone else. If only she knew it was all a lie. What would she say then?

Dean honestly didn’t expect her to show up. So much shit happened that he didn’t think… but not that he’s complaining. It was fantastic to see her again. Before they ever got together and before he met Charlie, Jo was his best friend. Hell, they grew up together. Gradually, that friendship turned into… something. Something deeper than friendship. And before he knew it, it all slipped out of his grasp.

The whole thing was messy. Still is. He probably should’ve told Castiel about her, but how does he start that conversation? He already has to spill his other closely kept thoughts to the guy for the sake of their sham love, why can’t he keep this one thing private?

Dean smirks as he remembers Castiel asking him about Jo last night. From the tone of his voice, Dean got the impression Cas seemed a bit jealous. Although, knowing the strictly business creature that is Castiel, he was probably just worried it would affect their deal somehow. What would Cas have to be jealous about anyway? Dean just hopes Sam and Charlie keeps their mouth shut about Jo because really, it’s none of Castiel’s damn business.

Dean rinses the body wash from his skin, watching it disappear down the drain while soaking up his last few moments of peace before turning off the water. He steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the rack and wraps it around his waist. He looks around, realizing that, in his drowsy mindset, he forgot his clothes in the bedroom.

He peeks his head out the door to see the hallway is empty. The faint voices of Sam and Jess float up from downstairs in the kitchen so chances of them suddenly appearing are slim. Still, he shuffles hurriedly down the hall, twisting the knob of the door and diving into his room, closing it securely behind him.

There's a sharp intake of breath and he spins around, eyes immediately find Castiel standing in the middle of the room. Shirtless. Dean’s hand automatically clutches tighter at the towel around his waist.

“Dean, what- what are you doing?” Castiel stammers, quickly grabbing for a shirt and pulling it on.

“What do you mean what am _I_ doing? This is my room,” Dean says, completely frozen in place. His bag is right near Castiel’s feet so he can’t exactly get what he needs and flee the scene.

“You always walk around naked when guests are over?” Castiel asks sarcastically, staring awkwardly at the wall.

“I forgot my clothes. Why didn’t you go change in the bathroom downstairs?” Dean huffs, standing up straighter because what the hell? If anyone’s to blame here, it’s Cas for not locking the damn door.

“Because... well, I didn’t think this would be a problem,” Castiel says defensively. “I didn’t think anyone would barge in without knocking,” he adds.

Dean laughs. “Once again, my room. And you don’t know how to work a lock?”

This only makes Castiel’s face redden, eyes still fixed on a particular spot on the wall. “Will you just put some clothes on already?” Castiel asks impatiently, his cheeks darkening even more.

“I’d love to, but you’re standing by my bag. Unless, ya know, you want me-“ he doesn’t finish when Castiel quickly shuffles past him and out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Dean chuckles as he drops the towel and gets dressed.

He's still smiling to himself when he makes his way downstairs and greets Sam and Jess with a cheery, “Good morning”.

“You seem more awake,” Sam comments, holding out a cup of coffee to him.

“Guess so. It’s pancakes then?” He takes a sip of the bitter drink, eyes flickering to where Castiel was seated at the kitchen table with a mug.

“Yes please!” Jess sings happily.

Dean sets the mug down on the counter and moves to the fridge to pull out the necessary ingredients.

“You’re making pancakes?” Castiel asks behind him.

“Take it or leave it,” he grunts, measuring out the ingredients and dumping them into a mixing bowl.

“I mean, you make pancakes?” Castiel clarifies with an edge to his voice.

“You’ve never had Dean’s pancakes?” Sam asks, almost offended.

“Um, no?”

Jess lets out a dramatic gasp. “Dean, what kind of person doesn’t make his boyfriend pancakes?” she demands, matching Sam’s tone.

Dean shrugs as he cracks the eggs into the bowl. “I dunno. Guess we don’t really have time for pancakes. Because _someone_ doesn’t make time for the little things in life.”

“You’ve never once offered to make me pancakes,” Castiel says defensively.

Dean laughs, beating all the ingredients together. “Gee, I wonder why. Maybe I got distracted doing all your shit for you.” He steals several bananas from a bunch, tossing away the peels and mashing them into the mix then pouring small circles into the heated pan on the stove.

He realizes too late how harsh the words are and wishes he could suck them back in. Dammit. They’re supposed to be selling their relationship, not making it clear they can’t stand each other.

“Dean…” Sam says quietly and Dean sees disapproval written all over his face. Yeah, he went too far.

He sighs as he takes in a hunched over Castiel frowning down at his coffee. He’s probably pissed at what Dean just said in front of Sam and Jess and he should probably expect an earful about it later.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I, uh, I’ll make them more for you in the future, kay?”

Castiel just takes a drink of his coffee, keeping his eyes lowered. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and decides to step it up a notch. He’s gotta make up some serious ground. He crosses the kitchen and wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, which jump slightly at the touch.

“I promise. Ones with blueberries because I know you love those with your breakfast,” Dean tells him softly, trying to make it sound as sincere as possible.

He actually surprises himself with the mentioning of blueberries. Then again, anyone would know this if they brought Castiel his breakfast on the days he didn’t have time to eat at home. They would know how every blueberry muffin that’s presented to him is gone within a minute while the chocolate chip ones have only a couple bites in them after sitting on his desk for an hour. They would know how he scowls a little less when there are fresh blueberries in his oatmeal as opposed to raisins. It’s not just something Dean noticed- _anyone_ could pick up on this little Cas fact if they paid attention. Honestly.

And if mentioning blueberries wasn’t surprising enough, without thinking, he leans forward and presses his lips gingerly against Cas’ temple.

There’s the clearing of a throat that makes him straighten up and step away from Cas, finally making him come to his senses because the what hell was he doing anyway? Dean looks over his shoulder to see his dad standing in the doorway, watching them all with guarded eyes.

“Good morning, sir,” Dean murmurs as he makes his way back to the stove to flip the pancakes with the others greeting him as well. John grunts in response, moving towards the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.

“So you boys going to help me at the shop today?” John asks, taking a sip from his mug.

“I wish we could but we’re going to that brewery today to pick out some beer for the rehearsal dinner,” Sam says, although this is news to Dean.

John snorts. “You know, I miss having my two sons at the shop.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the obvious guilt trip. “Jo is more than capable. You don’t need us.”

“Guess you’re right. Don’t want too many cooks in the kitchen, do we?” he says coolly. Dean bites his tongue to withhold a retort and flips another pancake a little too forcefully. It’s quiet for a couple minutes before the retreating of John’s boots against the floor break the silence. Dean looks over his shoulder to see him headed towards the front door.

“So you’re not gonna stay for breakfast?” he calls after him.

“We got a lot of work to do before we leave and those cars ain’t gonna fix themselves, Dean,” John calls back and two seconds later, the front door squeaks open and closed.

Dean clenches his jaw, sliding the completed pancakes onto a plate and pushing them aside. “Here, someone take these.”

He pours more batter into the pan and keeps his eyes focused on the small bubbles that rise and pop in the batter from the heat.

“He’s trying, Dean,” Sam’s voice is next to him as he scoops up the plate.

Dean scoffs. “You call that trying? And since when are you and Dad such best friends?”

“You know it could be worse. Hell, it _has_ been worse. And we’re not best friends. You know him and I had a rough relationship growing up, but we’ve reconciled our differences. It’s not perfect, but we’re tolerating each other, at least for this weekend,” Sam says softly.

Dean looks over his shoulder to see both Cas and Jess looking down awkwardly from the family argument and sighs, flipping the pancakes over. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.”

He finishes making the pancakes in silence and carries the completed product over to the table, setting a plate down in front of Castiel. “So what’s with this brewery thing?”

Sam groans. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Dean stuffs a bite into his mouth and looks at Sam. “When did you tell me we were going to a brewery?”

“Like, a month ago!”

Dean looks to Jess who confirms this with a nod.

He glances at Castiel, who looks like he’s using every effort not in inhale the pancakes right then and there. Withholding a small smile, he looks back to Sam. “Okay then, let’s go drink some beer.”

*****

  
Castiel swirls the dark amber liquid in a circular motion before lifting the glass to his lips to take a small sip. He glances at the others who are doing the same thing.

“What do you think?” their guide asks them.

“Very, um, rich,” Sam says, although he looks like he’s trying not to gag on the stuff.

“I think something a little less dry would suit our interests?” Jess says, looking to Sam for back up.

“Yeah, less dry would be good.”

“Of course, we have plenty left to sample,” the woman comments before leaving to fetch another round of samples.

“If you don't like it, I'll drink yours,” Dean says beside him. Castiel looks down at his glass and shrugs, handing it over to Dean who kills the rest of it in one gulp.

Castiel smirks. “You do realize this is a tasting, right?”

Dean stares at him, looking offended. “I am tasting! And I’m enjoying every last drop. Forgive me for being a little passionate about it.”

Sam sighs. “Dean, just try not to get us thrown out of here, okay?”

“I ain’t doing nothing but enjoying life,” Dean smiles and Sam rolls his eyes in response.

“Yeah, just don’t enjoy life too much.”

The woman returns a moment later with a platter of small glasses filled with a lighter gold colored liquid to the perfect amount for tasting. Castiel tries not to laugh when Dean simply grabs the glass and downs it, letting out a satisfied hum.

“Oooh, I like that one.”

Castiel halfheartedly swishes the beer around before giving it a taste and he has to agree. It’s much more pleasant than the last one, which was dry and difficult to swallow without cringing.

“This is one of our best-selling craft beers,” the woman says, giving Dean an irritated look before focusing back on Sam and Jess and diving into the details of the beer. Dean steps closer to Castiel, putting his mouth closer than necessary to whisper in his ear.

“Hey Cas, you gonna finish that?”

A shiver goes down his back as Dean’s breath tickles him and he gives him a disapproving look to cover it. “Dean, we’re going to get escorted out of here with you getting tipsy on beer samples.”

Dean snorts, yanking his head away. “I am not.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows at him and Dean crosses his arms. “Okay, maybe I am a little. But I know how to behave.”

Castiel sneaks one look at the guide before trading his glass with Dean’s empty one. Might as well let someone enjoy it.

This time, Dean takes careful sips, treasuring the taste as opposed to the three prior beers they’ve sampled.

“So, Mr. High and Mighty, got any critiques on my beer tasting technique? Or are you more of a wine guy?” Dean’s voice is somewhere between teasing and mockery.

“You ought to be nicer to me. I’m sharing my drink with you despite how much our guide hates you,” Castiel says.

“Not because we’re supposed to be in love though, right?” Dean winks at him and Castiel shushes him, casting a glance over to Sam and Jess but they’re too busy trying to pay attention to the cicerone drone on about the process of brewing beer to listen in on their conversation.

“Would it kill you to not blurt out our secrets?” Castiel hisses under his breath and Dean just giggles- actually giggles- taking another sip of the beer. “But to answer your question, maybe actually tasting it would be a start. Other than that, I don’t have any tips to share. I, um, I have no idea what I’m doing,” Castiel admits sheepishly.

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? You seem like you’re fully educated in this fancy kind of crap.”

Castiel laughs, surprising himself. “Sorry to disappoint. Metatron may take us to important, client based dinners, but we’ve never been to a brewery before. Dinner parties, where wine is usually the preferred drink, are much simpler to get to know important clients.”

“Hey guys, we picked a beer for the rehearsal dinner, but there’s still one more thing we get before we leave,” Jess’ voice interrupts them.

“What’s that?” Dean asks, seeming to sober up the slightest.

“Since we’re engaged, and as part of the tour, we get a photo in the gardens,” Sam explains.

“Their gardens looked exquisite. I’m sure they'll turn out great,” Castiel offers and Jess smiles in response.

“If you’ll follow me this way,” the woman motions for them and starts to lead the way through the maze of the brewery and shelves filled with various bottles.

Castiel inhales as they step outside, the scent of flowers and fresh summer air filling his nose and he breathes out. This place looks beautiful with its serene weeping willows and bushes of roses and clumps of lilies. He’s never been to a brewery before and he has to admit, it’s a lot nicer than he expected.

A photographer arrives moments later to usher Sam and Jess into position and giving them tips on poses. Once satisfied the photographer steps back and snaps a few pictures, reviews the shots, and calls for a pose change.

Castiel glances at Dean who is smiling fondly at his brother and Jess. “They look great together,” Castiel tells him.

Dean scoffs. “They can’t hear us, Cas. No need to play the part.”

Castiel frowns. Was simply being nice just ‘a part’?

“Dean, Cas, come jump in!” Jess calls to them. They both start to decline the invitation until Sam pipes up next.

“Yeah, come on! This place is beautiful so why not get a picture? You guys need one.”

Castiel and Dean share a look before giving in and trudging over to where Sam and Jess stood.

“Alright, let’s go for matching couple poses,” the man says and directs them into place. The first pose is simply of each couple holding hands and smiling at the camera. Once the picture is taken, Dean drops Castiel’s hand while Castiel is itching to leave already. At least hand holding is harmless. It could’ve been much worse.

The photographer views the photo and shakes his head, seeming unsatisfied. “Let’s try a different pose, something more intimate.”

Shit.

The photographer trots up to them and directs where he wants everyone to stand- Dean and Sam standing back to back with Castiel and Jess taking their places in front of them. The man steps forward to fix Sam and Jess’ arms so that Sam is hugging her around the waist while Jess drapes her arms loosely around his neck. Without being told, Sam leans his forehead down to rest against Jess’ and she giggles, which thrills the photographer.

“Excellent! Okay, now I want you two to mirror them.”

Nervous flutters arise in Castiel’s stomach as he takes in the sight of Jess and Sam. He shifts his gaze to Dean, who looks completely sobered at the sight versus earlier when he was flirting and giggling from the beer.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Dean mutters to Castiel and he nods.

He steps closer to Dean, who snakes his arms around Castiel’s waist and pulls him in so that their bodies are pressed against each other. Castiel swallows and raises his arms to relax around Dean’s neck. He lifts his gaze to meet Dean’s as he touches his forehead to Castiel’s, Dean’s eyes never straying.

Castiel studies their green depths, searching for any sign of discomfort or disgust or irritation. Surprisingly, he finds none of that. His expression is guarded, but he can’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of energy coming from Dean. It’s not exactly negative or positive, it’s just… intense. He barely hears the shutter of the camera click in front of them.

“Looks great! Now how about a kiss? No need to change positions,” the photographer instructs.

Castiel’s breathing hitches in his throat. He wasn’t expecting to kiss Dean so soon. He wasn’t sure when it would happen, but certainly not here in such an intimate setting, clearly meant for _real_ couples. His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s about to ask Dean if they should speak up when Dean presses his lips forward to meet Castiel’s.

Castiel’s mind is spinning and he isn’t sure what to do. He didn’t mentally prepare himself for this.

“Kiss back, idiot,” Dean hisses under his breath and Castiel obeys, moving his lips to better fit Dean’s, his grip around Dean’s neck tightening ever so slightly and his heart all but leaping out of his chest.

“Perfect!” the photographer calls and they break apart quickly, dropping their hands from the other and putting space between them. Castiel glances to Sam and Jess but they’re too busy trading a few more lingering kisses to notice the awkward exchange.

“I’ll print out your complimentary copy of one of the poses while you make your final purchases,” the photographer smiles at them before disappearing inside.

“Those looked wonderful,” their guide says as she walks up to them. “If you’re ready, we can get your selections wrapped up and take down your information to send you jpegs of the photos?”

Sam and Jess nod, walking hand in hand as they follow her.

“Well, aren’t you quite the kisser,” Dean quips beside him as they start to walk.

“I was not prepared,” Castiel answers in a low voice, wiping away all the traces of his prior nervousness.

“You do realize it was going to happen eventually, right?”

“Doesn’t mean it would’ve made it any more enjoyable,” Castiel retorts, staving off the blush that wants to blossom up to his ears.

Dean chuckles. “Ouch. I didn’t realize it would be such a displeasure kissing me. Normally, my reviews are five stars all around.”

“Are you saying you liked it?” Castiel asks, glancing over to Dean.

“I never said that,” Dean protests a little too strongly.

Castiel conceals the smile that wants to spread across his face. “You know, I can always tell when you’re lying.”

This flusters Dean even more. “At least I didn’t stand there like a goddamn statue.” Dean’s eyes flicker to Sam and Jess, who are still out of earshot but Dean lowers his voice anyway. “You know, we’re supposed to be selling this. So a little tip for you? Next time we have to do that, pretend you have a heart for a couple seconds, okay?”

Castiel stops in his tracks, Dean’s words like a slap in the face, especially after the relatively good time they’ve been having here- this morning’s jab set aside. A retort rises in his throat but stops when Dean looks over his shoulder at him. “Come on, _sweetheart_.”

His condescending tone only riles Castiel up further and he jogs to catch up with him, leaning close to Dean’s ear and dropping his voice dangerously low. “Don’t _ever_ call me sweetheart, got it?”

He pulls back to give Dean an innocent smile and Dean’s façade is broken only momentarily before offering Castiel a smile of his own.

“Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :D  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

It’s the middle of the afternoon when they arrive back at the house. The brewery was a couple hours away from Lawrence, so despite the earlier start to the day, it’s already half over. Not that Castiel’s complaining. The faster these days go by, the faster he can return home and get back to work.  
  
He trails behind everyone as they make their way inside the house, sneaking a peak at his phone. There are no new messages though, thank goodness.  
  
Bartholomew had called him this morning requesting access to his files for Bela. Although Metatron had temporarily given Bartholomew control over the Talbot project until Castiel cleared up the matter of being deported, that did not grant him the right to go rifling through Castiel’s stuff. He had all that he needed. And Castiel knows he wouldn’t just stop with Bela’s files. No, he will pick through his other clients and try to take them away as well.  
  
Perhaps he should call Balthazar and request him to do a little spying…  
  
“-and we can get a system going once Charlie makes it over. Sound like a plan?” Sam’s voice is faint in the background.  
  
“Sounds good. Cas?” Dean’s voice prompts louder.  
  
Castiel shoves his phone back into his pocket and looks up to see everyone staring at him.  
  
“Uh, what?”  
  
“Do you mind helping us assemble the placement cards and wedding favors?” Jess asks with a kind smile.  
  
Castiel nods quickly. “Oh, yes of course.”  
  
“Awesome. I’ll give Charlie a call,” Dean says, pulling out his phone and stepping away to talk.  
  
“Come on Cas, you can help us set up,” Sam says, motioning for him to follow as him and Jess disappear deeper into the house.  
  
They enter some sort of den area filled with various boxes and bags. Sam picks up a cardboard box and hands it off to Castiel. “Just set it on the kitchen table. We should have enough room to work there.”  
  
Castiel grunts at the sudden weight placed in his hands. It’s a smaller box, but it’s on the heavier side. “What’s in here?” he asks, carrying the box to the kitchen.  
  
“Candles!” Jess chirps, following him with another box.  
  
“Candles?” he echoes, leaving out the part that he thinks it’s a rather unusual wedding favor.  
  
“And a book of matches,” Sam adds, setting down a third box next to the other two.  
  
This doesn’t clarify anything for Castiel and he just smiles politely. “Any inspiration behind it?”  
  
Sam and Jess share a small smile before Jess looks back to Castiel. “It supposed to represent that even in the dark, love can light the way- to help those that are lost.”  
  
Until the light goes out, that is.  
  
Castiel doesn’t dare say that out loud though. He says something else instead. “That’s a very thoughtful message. I think it’s wonderful.” And he’s not completely lying. In theory, it does sound nice.  
  
Sam chuckles, wrapping his arms around Jess’ shoulders. “This may be a little embarrassing to admit, but we didn’t come up with it.”  
  
Castiel tilts his head gently. “No?”  
  
Jess shakes her head. “As much as we’d love to take credit for it, we can’t. It was all Dean.”  
  
Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up. Did he hear that right? “Dean was the one who thought of that?”  
  
“Dean thought of what?” Speak of the devil. Castiel turns to see Dean standing in the doorway tucking his phone back into his pocket, eyes wearily watching the three of them.  
  
“We were just giving you credit where credit is due. The meaning behind the candles and matches?” Sam tells him.  
  
Dean’s gaze instantly flickers to Castiel and his face turns a light shade of pink. “Nah, it’s not really that good. You guys were the ones who came up with the idea of the candles anyway.”  
  
“Don’t be so modest, Dean. That was all on you,” Jess giggles with Sam nodding in agreement.  
  
Castiel can’t help the small smile that finds its way on his lips. Somehow, he’s intrigued by the fact that Dean came up with this.  
  
Dean shakes his head, waving them off. “Whatever. Charlie will be here in ten so let’s get set up, shall we?” Dean brushes past them and starts unpacking the boxes of supplies.  
  
“Alright. We just gotta get a few more things,” Sam says and he disappears with Jess close behind him.  
  
Dean watches them go, shaking his head before moving to pull out spools of ribbon and white, collapsible boxes and tissue paper. Castiel reaches into another box, pulling out a small, glass candle jar and studies it. The label looks like it’s custom made, spelling out Sam and Jess’ names in fancy script with the wedding date printed neatly under it. He pulls off the top and takes a whiff, his nose filling with the scent of roses. Perhaps it’s meant to be romantic, but Castiel can’t help but think of it as a little cliché.  
  
He replaces the lid and sets it to the side, looking to Dean whose busy sorting the supplies into small stations to make a sort of assembly line.  
  
“That was very creative of you,” Castiel tells him.  
  
Dean glances up at him and scowls, keeping his voice low. “Don’t patronize me, Cas.”  
  
Castiel frowns. “I wasn’t.”  
  
Dean snorts but doesn’t say anything and Castiel knows he doesn’t believe him one bit. This is starting to irritate him. Every attempt he’s has made at being kind, Dean’s accused it of being an act or condescending. It kind of hurts too. Does Dean honestly think Castiel has no kindness in his heart? That he’s not capable of giving out compliments or genuinely finding pleasure in something?  
  
Maybe he’s right though. Maybe Castiel’s just not capable of kindness and love...  
  
Before anymore words can be shared, Jess and Sam return with the last of the boxes and finish setting up. Charlie arrives not too long after and before Castiel knows it, he’s sitting in a chair carefully writing out the names of guests on small, neatly folded placement cards.  
  
Dean had let it slip that Castiel knows a bit of calligraphy so he was put on writing duty. Castiel, once again, tries not to act so surprised that Dean knows another fact about him. He really hopes that Dean didn’t catch the blush that colored his cheeks this morning at the mention of how he favors blueberries with his breakfasts. But then again, Dean is his assistant and if he hasn’t picked up on these little things after two years, then it speaks volumes what kind of assistant he is and Castiel’s poor judgement of keeping him around.  
  
He shoos the thoughts from his mind because really, he should be focusing on not screwing up Sam and Jess’ placement cards.  
  
Jess, who also knows how to transform ink into art, is writing out names with him as well. Sam works on filling the collapsible boxes with the candles and matches nestled in the tissue paper while Dean and Charlie finish off the favors by wrapping the boxes closed with the ribbon tied with pretty bows on the top. And that’s how they work.  
  
It’s actually not so bad. Charlie had plugged her iPod to a docking station and they were all working together, creating placement cards and constructing wedding favors as music flowed around them.  
  
Castiel’s grateful that no one bothers him much either, given there’s a limited amount of the stationary Sam and Jess have, it’s best to have as few mistakes as possible. The pressure only builds on him though to make sure each card he makes is perfect on the first try. Sam keeps making Jess giggle, causing her hand to splatter the ink or make unfavorable kinks in the elegant script.  
  
But everything feels… nice. Castiel’s content listening to the chatter and the soft music in the background. He can’t really remember the last time he was in such a relaxed atmosphere.  
  
As the afternoon goes on, he finds himself increasingly fascinated with Charlie, most notably. He appreciates the honesty in her voice and how she can turn a completely dull story into something of an adventure. Not to mention the playful banter she has with Dean amuses Castiel. It’s obvious why the two of them are close friends.  
  
Maybe he feels more comfortable with her ever since she gave him that insight on the situation between Dean and Jo. If he had met her under different circumstances, he could see himself befriending her eventually. A small part of him wishes that were the case.  
  
Once afternoon gives way to evening, more people arrive. Bobby, Ellen, John and Jo all walk into the house at once, the volume of human voices in the house rising. Castiel’s first reaction to the new arrivals is to study Dean’s reaction. There’s only a tense greeting between Dean and his father but other than that, it’s all light and friendly. He tries not to watch Dean and Jo’s interactions too closely. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the stationary and ink, focusing on scrawling out the perfect little letters that will proclaim where this particular guest will sit.  
  
“Why don’t you all take a break for some dinner? Y’all look like you need an hour away from this,” Ellen suggests to them and no one objects, chairs scraping against the floor as everyone drops what they’re doing. Thank goodness for Ellen’s suggestion because by now, Castiel’s neck and back are completely sore from hours of hunching over, his hand cramping from the careful writing.  
  
“Is Dean cooking?” Charlie asks hopefully and Dean ruffles her hair.  
  
“You bet your ass I am.”  
  
Castiel stands from the table, unsure where he should go. Does he stay with Dean in the kitchen or follow the others to the living room to sit? Ever since that kiss earlier, they’ve been a little more distant towards each other, but the thought of having to sit and possibly talk about himself with the rest of Dean’s family isn’t necessarily appealing either.  
  
Thankfully, he doesn’t need to make the decision as his phone rings in his pocket. He digs it out, although his relief at the distraction melts to tension at seeing the name on the screen.  
  
“Hey Cas, you coming?” Charlie asks him, hovering in the kitchen doorway.  
  
It takes him a moment to tear his eyes away from the phone to look at her and he nods numbly. “Um, yes. I just have to take this phone call first. I’ll be right there though.” Charlie beams at him and disappears into the living room.  
  
Castiel casts one look at Dean but he’s is already busy collecting ingredients and pays him no heed, so he makes his way outside to the front yard without another word. Closing the door behind him, he glances back at the phone, takes a deep breath and answers it.  
  
“Gabriel.”  
  
“Cassie, my favorite little bro! It’s been too long,” Gabriel greets him loudly on the other end.  
  
“You’re still obnoxious as ever,” Castiel notes dryly.  
  
Gabriel just chuckles. “And you still have no people skills. Funny how some things never change.”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes. “Yes, it is. I assume you’ve gotten bored in your travels if you’re calling me.”  
  
“Are you kidding me? Bored is not a word in my vocabulary. I make sure to keep myself busy every night, if you know what I mean,” Castiel groans softly at Gabriel’s implication but he continues on, “Besides, can’t a guy call his brother? How long has it been, Cassie?”  
  
It's probably been a good several months since the last conversation he had with Gabriel. Castiel hasn't seen him in years, and it took some time for Castiel to even gather to strength to answer his phone calls after everything that happened, but they managed to talk at least once a month, even if the call was only ten minutes of awkward conversation. But the last phone call he had with Gabriel turned south very badly and for that, Gabriel has kept to Castiel's demand that he never contact him again. Which is why Castiel's a little more than displeased to be hearing from him now, of all times.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. We parted for a reason.”  
  
Gabriel snorts. “No, _you_ were the one who ‘parted’. Not me. That’s beside the point though and not the reason why I’m calling.”  
  
Castiel clenches his jaw. “Then what is?”  
  
“I got a peculiar phone call yesterday. Does the name Zachariah ring a bell to you?”  
  
Dread fills Castiel’s stomach and his hand tightens around the phone. “He… He called you?”  
  
Gabriel hums. “Yes. Congratulations by the way, Casanova. It’s a shame to hear from a private investigator that your little brother is getting married rather than from said brother. But I guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles, given our history.”  
  
Castiel glances over his shoulder, double checking that no one has followed him but he’s taking no chances. He steps off the porch and walks to the end of the lawn to put some decent distance between him and the house.  
  
“What did he want?” Castiel keeps his voice low despite the previous precautions.  
  
“He wanted to know if you’ve mentioned your dirty little secret- I mean, charming assistant to me before.”  
  
“What did you tell him?” Castiel hisses into the phone, his patience long gone. This is not the time for Gabriel to be cute and play his frustrating games.  
  
Gabriel snorts. “Come on, Cassie, give me a little credit. We’re not a completely broken family- remember, you walked, I didn’t.” There’s a sort of pause but Castiel keeps his mouth shut and Gabriel continues once again, “I told him that I have indeed heard about this Dean before and I even left out the parts where you complained about him. You’re welcome, by the way.”  
  
“Did he believe you?”  
  
“I think I satisfied his curiosity. I told him we don’t talk much anymore but that I wasn’t surprised to hear you are engaged to him. I think I even said ‘it was only a matter of time’. And that was the end of that.”  
  
Castiel exhales, although his stomach is still in knots. “Well, thank you.”  
  
Gabriel scoffs. “Since I covered for your ass, do you mind telling me why exactly I had to lie to a private investigator for you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a little trickery but I usually go for smaller fish.”  
  
Castiel hesitates. He doesn’t want anyone else to know. They can’t know. “It’s a private matter.”  
  
“Castiel, I want you to tell me what in the hell you’re up to. I deserve to know what shit you’re getting yourself into, and I can easily call Zach back and tell him what I suspect is the truth. So spill.”  
  
Castiel groans, rubbing a hand down his face. Gabriel always knew how to get what he wanted. “Fine. I need to marry Dean so I can stay in the country- otherwise I’m going to be deported.”  
  
Gabriel is quiet for a long time and Castiel checks to make sure the call didn’t drop. “Gabriel?”  
  
Laughter fills the other end and Castiel is beyond confused. “Oh Cassie, what have you done?”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes. “I cannot lose my job, Gabriel. I had nothing before- I started from nothing and I refuse to go back to that time. I’ve made it this far on my own and there’s no way I can give it up now- not when I have an easy fix.”  
  
“And Dean consented to this? He wants to marry you?”  
  
Castiel fights back a cringe. “We negotiated terms.”  
  
Gabriel snickers. “You were always the romantic one.”  
  
Castiel sighs, ignoring the sarcasm. “At any rate, I appreciate you covering for me.”  
  
“Of course, Cassie. As much as you want to forget, we _are_ still brothers. I know I disappointed you in the past, but I’m going to have your back no matter what, despite your efforts of pushing me away.”  
  
The knots in Castiel’s stomach tighten. Guilt and frustration strangle his body but he doesn’t say anything, the words stuck in his throat.  
  
“Listen, I know you’re off on your own now and you never want to look back, but I do miss talking to you, Castiel. This whole traveling around and meeting new people is fun and all, but I hope that you can let us be brothers again soon,” Gabriel says sincerely.  
  
Castiel tries to swallow the lump in his throat but it doesn’t budge. “I hope so too.”  
  
He pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up, staring at the screen until the light dims and the screen goes black. He’s unsure how to feel after that phone call with Gabe. He does miss his brother dearly, but there’s a reason he left him behind- that he left everything behind. He tried to make it work, but the attempt failed miserably.  
  
The front door squeaks open and he glances over his shoulder to see Jo standing on the porch with a beer in hand.  
  
“Hey Cas!” she calls to him, waving with a friendly smile.  
  
He cringes as Dean’s nickname for him rolls off her tongue, but thankfully the waning sunlight conceals his reaction from across the lawn.  
  
“Good evening, Jo,” he greets and makes his way over to her, climbing the couple steps of the porch. “What are you doing out here?”  
  
She leans against the house, bringing the bottle to her lips to steal a sip. “Just needed some fresh air. Working all day with your face stuffed in car engines with oil and grease makes a person desperate for a good breeze, you know?”  
  
Castiel nods and they stand in silence for a moment, his mind is racing to say anything before it gets too awkward. “So, you’ve known Dean and Sam for a while?”  
  
Jo grins. “Oh yeah. We grew up together, pretty much.”  
  
Castiel knows this would be the perfect opportunity to get some information on Dean’s relationship with her, although he’s quite certain Dean would blow a gasket if he found out Castiel was prying. But he has to know what he’s dealing with. For the sake of their arrangement, of course.  
  
“So, you’d say you all were close.” It’s not really a question.  
  
Jo chuckles. “Definitely. Our parents were really close so that naturally meant we all saw a lot of each other. And after my…,” she hesitates, a sadness glazing over her eyes but continues, “after my father died when I was little, Bobby and John became like fathers to me. They really helped out my mom.”  
  
Dammit, she just had to go and drop that bomb on him.  
  
“I’m sorry for your loss, truly.” Despite him not being the biggest fan of Jo right now, he sincerely means the apology.  
  
She nods, giving him a tiny smile. “It’s okay. They both made sure my mom and I knew we weren’t on our own.”  
  
He nods, but there’s still that itch for more information. He’s going to have to come out and ask, isn’t he?  
  
“So, um, did you and Dean ever…” Castiel trails off, feeling incredibly awkward at having to outright ask her.  
  
Jo snorts, shaking her head. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell you. But I guess that’s just like Dean.”  
  
Castiel feels his patience wearing thin, using every ounce of effort not to snap. It’s not just at Jo though. It’s been building ever since he got here yesterday. Everyone is being so frustratingly vague. It must be some sort of Winchester family trait that gets passed to those close to them too.  
  
He cocks his head to the side in mock confusion. “Tell me what?”  
  
“We were together. About two years.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes widen. He wasn’t expecting their relationship to have lasted that long. “May I ask what happened?”  
  
Jo takes a deep breath and takes a long sip of her beer before speaking. “As we grew up together, everyone seemed to expect we’d get together- teased us all the time about it. At first we were totally grossed out by the idea since we were friends and all. But then high school hit and things started to change. It changed when he got rather popular with the girls at school and I… I don’t know. I guess I started getting jealous and I had no idea why.”  
  
“You started developing feelings for him,” Castiel supplies and she nods.  
  
“Yeah, except I didn’t really know it at the time. I was just scared he’d find someone else to replace me with. But as high school went on, I knew what I was feeling was beyond what I told myself, so I kept my feelings to myself. I couldn’t help but be relieved when we graduated, thinking that maybe this would be my chance. I started working at Bobby’s shop while Dean enrolled at a local college- one that helped him get started on his path in architecture. We hung out all the time, of course, and I was starting to think that maybe it was evolving into something more than friendship…” Jo laughs under her breath, eyes distant as if she was reliving it all.  
  
“But?”  
  
“But then he met Aaron.”  
  
Castiel furrows his brow. “Aaron?”  
  
“Yep. Aaron was someone he met at college and Dean went through a rough time because he started coming to terms with his bisexuality. The dummy was scared we’d all disown him when in reality, we thought it was just a matter of time before he embraced it.”  
  
The corners of Castiel’s mouth turn downwards. “How could you know before he did?”  
  
Jo giggles. “Oh Cas, you should’ve seen him. He would get way too giddy to see Gunner Lawless or Dr. Sex on TV. Poor guy had been denying it for so many years but we saw it coming. We just wanted him to be happy and comfortable in his own skin.”  
  
Castiel nods and can’t help a small smile at the thought of Dean getting overly excited about attractive men. He always seems so calm and collected- Castiel would very much like to see that other side of him. “So how does Aaron fit into all this?”  
  
Jo takes another drink before continuing. “Aaron was his first boyfriend. They stayed together a while- he was really Dean’s first serious relationship. But, as you can guess, it didn’t last. Aaron broke up with him and Dean was devastated. We all helped him through it, though. But then things really started to change between us. One night, we were hanging out at the bar- just like we always did- and we had a little too much to drink.”  
  
Jo pauses as her cheeks color pink.  
  
“I think I can guess what happened,” Castiel says, not too interested in hearing the details of Dean with another person.  
  
Jo gives a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I spilled out everything I was feeling and… yeah, stuff happened that night.”  
  
Castiel presses his lips together, withholding a groan but doesn’t interrupt her.  
  
“So when once we were sober again, we talked about what it all meant. That’s when he told me that he’s had a little crush on me since high school but didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And well, we got together and we were happy… we really were.”  
  
Castiel studies Jo’s face, finding traces of vague happiness and sadness mixed together. “So what went wrong?” he prompts.  
  
Jo sighs. “It was a gradual decline. Slowly we were falling apart and I can’t exactly say why. It just happened. Dean got more invested in architecture and I was busy helping Mom at The Roadhouse and working at Bobby’s shop. Dean always talked about eventually moving away but I didn’t want to- I wanted to stay in Lawrence. We would fight over the stupidest things and when we weren’t fighting, we were quiet. It felt like we were just going through the motions… but I knew what was next.”  
  
“You knew it wasn’t going to work out,” Castiel guesses.  
  
Jo presses her lips together, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, but also that I wasn’t in love with him. And honestly, I don’t know if I ever was.”  
  
Whoa… even Castiel has to admit it sounds cold, though it is what it is. How did Dean take that news? Did she even tell him what she’s telling Castiel now?  
  
He bites his lip as he debates whether to ask or not, but gives in because if he doesn’t ask, he’ll probably be consumed by his burning curiosity. “Did he love you?” He keeps his voice soft, almost regretting asking the question.  
  
Almost.  
  
Jo glances back at him, guilt and sadness written all over her face. “I don’t know. We never said the ‘L’ word to each other.” She pauses before asking, “Has he said it to you?”  
  
Castiel hesitates. He could lie or tell the truth, but either one might come back to haunt him. If he told the truth, it might invalidate their engagement because if they were really getting married, they would’ve said it to each other by now. If he lied, it might just blow their entire cover if it’s too out of the ordinary for Dean to say to someone. Castiel comes up with a neutral answer that Jo will hopefully buy. “He’s used different words to express his feelings- but I don’t mind. I am the same way.”  
  
Jo gives a halfhearted chuckle and Castiel exhales in relief. “Sounds like Dean. As much as he wears his heart on his sleeve, whether he means to or not, Dean’s very careful about expressing himself. He has his own unique way of showing that he cares. And because of that, I started noticing that maybe he was feeling the same as me- that something wasn’t quite the way it should be.”  
  
“So then what happened?” he asks, ignoring the little feeling of relief that flutters behind his ribs.  
  
“Dean was trying so hard to fix things between us. I think he was scared that if we didn’t work out, we could never go back to being friends again. I mean, that’s usually what happens to couples. So I suggested that maybe we just needed a break from each other. I didn’t exactly want to end it because what if it meant a permanent goodbye? He’d been my best friend for so many years- I didn’t want to lose him.”  
  
Jo takes a deep breath before continuing. “So then he got that interview with your company- and he was beyond thrilled. He’d been itching to move on to a different firm- one with more opportunities than any around here could offer him, so he and Sam road tripped it to Chicago. He wanted me to come too but he basically had to sneak out. He didn’t want John finding out about the job yet, but I told him if I stayed behind, I could make sure John didn’t get suspicious. When he came back though, that’s when it all went to hell.”  
  
“Did his father find out?” Castiel questions.  
  
Jo shakes her head. “Not right away. Dean managed to keep it from John until he got the call saying he was hired. Then they fought- pretty badly, too- and he called me up afterwards really upset, but didn’t tell me what was going on. We met up at the bar and he told me everything. I comforted him and told him it’d all work out, like I always did when he needed help, and then it’s like a switch flipped in him. He got excited and blurted how he wanted me to move to Chicago with him, that we could get married and start a new life together away from here.”  
  
Castiel raises his eyebrows, actually shocked by her words. “He proposed to you?”  
  
Jo shrugs. “I guess, in a way less romantic way, he did.”  
  
“But… you said no.”  
  
Jo sighs, taking another drink, a longer one this time. “I said no. We had a serious talk about our relationship, one we should’ve had a while ago. I told him how I was feeling- how I didn’t want to settle down any time soon and that my feelings for him romantically were just… they changed. And he told me he was feeling the same way and, like me, didn’t want to throw away years of friendship because we didn’t work out as a couple.”  
  
Castiel nods, staying quiet and Jo smiles sadly at him. “That’s the thing with Dean. He refuses to give up on people.”  
  
Castiel looks towards the darkening sky that’s painted in deep blues and purples. “And that was the end?”  
  
“Yeah, that was the end. It wasn’t too much longer after we broke up that he moved to Chicago. We haven’t really spoken since he was gone. But things seem better now between us.” Castiel gives her a sideways look, that uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach again.  
  
“That’s great to hear,” he lies.  
  
She nods, taking another long pull at her beer. “You know, sometimes I wonder what might’ve happened if I said yes- if I had moved with him to Chicago. Would I have actually fallen in love with him then? Did we just need more time?”  
  
Castiel resists the urge to roll his eyes. He wants to be done with this conversation now. Maybe this isn’t Jo’s intent, but he can’t help but question her intentions with Dean. Sure, she may not harbor any romantic feelings towards him whatsoever, but does Dean feel the same way after all this time? Maybe in the time he’s been gone, he realized that he does feel like that about Jo. Did he think that there was a possibility of them getting back together if it wasn’t for Castiel?  
  
“You could waste so much time asking ‘what if’,” he murmurs. He should know from experience.  
  
Jo chuckles, clearly not picking up on Castiel’s annoyance and turns to him. “I guess you’re right. It’s ridiculous to think of- we’re so much better off as friends. But you sure are lucky, Cas. Dean is a great guy and it’s nice to see him happy again.”  
  
Castiel opens his mouth to say something but his mind goes blank at her words.  
  
Dean appears… happy?  
  
That’s got to be a joke or Jo, despite years of being close with Dean, needs relearn how to read Dean Winchester. Perhaps Dean’s a more convincing actor than Castiel pegged him to be if _anyone_ actually thinks Dean is happy right now. Castiel’s undoubtedly sucked every last bit of happiness out of him.  
  
Before he can screw up their entire cover by either acting too surprised or saying something stupid, the door opens beside them and Sam pokes his head out. “There you guys are! C’mon, dinner’s ready!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more a subdued chapter, I apologize. Think of it as the calm before the storm :)  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is- the storm. I hope it doesn't disappoint, lol

Dean stands to the side and away from the group, watching as everyone crowds around the countertop fighting each other to construct their tacos and fill their plates up with Spanish rice and refried beans.  
  
“Come on guys, it’s not a hard concept. One line,” Dean scowls after a tousle over the rice results in some getting spilled on the floor. Sam gives Dean an apologetic look while Charlie just huffs.  
  
“Normally that would work, but this guy-” she shakes the spoon at Sam, spraying more grain everywhere, “is gonna steal all the rice! The rest of us would like some too!”  
  
Sam snorts. “Okay, so the rice is my favorite part. Sue me.”  
  
"Fine. Quick question- can lawyers be hired for a law suit against themselves?"  
  
“Will you two get your damn food and move it along?” Bobby snaps and both Sam and Charlie narrow their eyes at each other before coming to a compromise and carrying on.  
  
Dean chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. His family is truly something else. He glances over at Castiel to see those calculating blue eyes watching him. Just from one glance, he can tell there are a million and one thoughts going through his mind.  
  
Was something going on at work? He did get a phone call earlier, but the way his face paled made Dean suspect it wasn’t work related. It was as if Cas saw a ghost or something.  
  
What’s even more suspicious is how long he was gone. Maybe this whole thing is starting to get to him and he just isn’t comfortable with the act anymore, if that kiss at brewery was any indication. Dean’s decided not to dwell on that particular moment though.  
  
Castiel shifts his eyes from Dean to the taco fixings then back before abandoning the poor excuse of a line to approach him.  
  
“Aren’t you going to get your food?” he asks in a hushed voice.  
  
Dean blinks at him, taken aback at the question. He quickly wipes the surprise from him face and nods. “Yeah, I just like to make sure everyone else has enough first.”  
  
Castiel furrows his brow, seeming unsettled by his answer. “You always put everyone before yourself?”  
  
Dean shrugs, grateful the others are still bickering over the food to hear them. “It’s not really a big deal.”  
  
Castiel nods slowly, looking away from Dean to the disorganized bunch that is his family.  
  
As if Castiel isn’t complex enough already, he recent behavior has Dean utterly confused. Why is he being nice when no one’s paying attention? Why did he care if everyone else got their food first? But every time he’s questioned Cas today, it only seemed to upset him so Dean keeps his mouth shut.  
  
“Here. I want you to go first,” Castiel says suddenly, thrusting his empty plate towards Dean.  
  
Dean laughs, moving his hands away from the proffered plate. “No way, man. You’re the guest, which means you get served first. I’m fine.”  
  
The classic look of irritation crosses Castiel’s face and he pushes the plate closer to him. “Dean, take the plate.”  
  
Dean narrows his eyes at him. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s acting so weird.  
  
Castiel sighs. “Why don’t you show me the proper way to construct a taco?”  
  
Dean tries not to outwardly laugh but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face. “You’re one of the most notable architects around and you don’t know how to make a taco?”  
  
Castiel scowls. “Of course I do. Humor me.”  
  
Dean holds his gaze for a long moment before taking the plate. “Fine.”  
  
He strides forward, pulling a couple tortillas from the warmer onto his plate and loading them up with all the fixings and sides, all the while completely aware of Cas’ eyes tracking him.  
  
“Did I do anything noteworthy in my taco construction?” Dean says, glancing over to him but now his gaze is fixed downwards now rather than on Dean.  
  
A smile ghosts over Castiel’s lips- so faint Dean’s not even sure it’s actually there- as he keeps his attention focused on his own taco building. “You put your guacamole on first.”  
  
Dean shrugs. “I think of it like the spackle that holds everything together, I guess.” Dean raises his eyebrows at him. “Is that not a thing?”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “I don’t know. I always forget to put it on first and it ends up falling out of the tortilla.”  
  
Dean smirks. “Kinda thought you were the type of guy to think ahead on stuff like that, Mr. Perfection.”  
  
“I hardly consider tacos worth the effort.” Castiel licks a small glob of guacamole from his finger and Dean feels a small tickle in his stomach at the sight. What the hell? It’s the same goddamn tickle he felt at the brewery.  
  
He’s probably just hungry. Yeah, he’s definitely hungry.  
  
He shakes his head and follows the others to the living room to eat since the kitchen table is cluttered with wedding crap. When he plops himself on the couch, he tries not to laugh at how lost Cas looks on where to sit but finally settles himself next to Dean, if a little stiff about it.  
  
Dean sees another golden opportunity to mess with him and he cranes his head towards him so his mouth is close to Cas’ ear and whispers, “Don’t be scared to cuddle.”  
  
Castiel snaps his head up to stare at Dean with wide eyes that flash with shock and confusion and then annoyance all within the span of a second- so fast that if Dean blinked, he would’ve missed the satisfying reaction. But even if he did miss it, the blush that settles on Castiel’s cheeks is undeniable. Dean gives him a wink which only deepens the color and he drops his gaze, apparently lost on a comeback or remark of his own to fire back with.  
  
Dean chuckles, folding one of his tacos and lifting it to his mouth to take a bite. Success tastes great.  
  
“Hey Cas! Hope you don’t mind I sit here!” Charlie announces as she plops herself on the other side of Castiel without waiting for an answer, causing him to be pushed even closer into Dean’s side.  
  
“Of course not, Charlie,” Cas says, although he's probably reeling inside. If Dean wasn’t so concerned with keeping up this fake relationship, he would high five Charlie for successfully deepening Cas’ discomfort.  
  
“So Dean, how’re things going at work?” Ellen asks from across the room.  
  
Dean quickly swallows down his forkful of rice before answering. “It’s going pretty well, actually. The company is taking on a really important client and she’s most likely going to be Cas’ client.”  
  
“Most likely? She isn’t yet?” John asks with only a hint of skepticism.  
  
Dean brushes off the tone and makes sure he catches his dad’s gaze when he speaks. “No, but I have no doubt Cas will close the deal.”  
  
John smirks but doesn’t respond, digging into his refried beans instead.  
  
“Sorry if this comes off the wrong way, but if the client is important, why wouldn’t she be assigned right away? Are you still negotiating the contract?” Sam asks, genuinely interested. He's always a nerd with that stuff- the lawyer stuff.  
  
Dean is in the middle of chewing so Castiel speaks up this time. “Ms. Talbot is a unique individual. While we work with plenty of people to her social status, she has exceptionally high expectations in regards to the quality of her endeavors. Because of this, the company wants to ensure that the preparation of the proposal for her project is the best it can be, which means they simply must keep all options open so when Ms. Talbot finds satisfaction, a contract with her chosen architect can then be signed.”  
  
“Well, aren’t you the best?” Charlie questions but then adds quickly, “No offense. I mean, it’s just that Dean wouldn’t stop talking about how great you were. Why wouldn’t they just choose you right away?”  
  
Dean feels his face start to burn at her words and he mentally takes back the high five he wanted to give her not even five minutes ago.  
  
Castiel chuckles beside him. “I am very good at what I do, yes. However, that doesn’t stop Bela’s advisors from wanting options. Truth is, there’s another candidate who is just as qualified as I am to handle the project and I understand their need to be thorough in their decision. But I don’t doubt they’ll choose wisely in the end.”  
  
“So then Dean does all your dirty work and you get all the recognition?” John asks and Dean cringes.  
  
Castiel doesn’t miss a beat, keeping his voice level and calm. “Not at all, sir. Dean will be recognized for his hard work, I’ll make sure of it. He might even be the one who designs the building.”  
  
Dean holds his breath for a moment at Cas’ words. Castiel’s _never_ given him recognition for his work. Hell, he doesn’t even get a thank you. And now, to bring up one of the terms of their deal? It’s gotta be all for show… This is the same guy who flattened all hope he had in getting a chance to submit his sketches just for simple consideration.  
  
“What? Dean, you didn’t tell us that!” Jess gasps from her spot on the loveseat.  
  
“Yeah dude, what the hell? That’s huge!” Sam matches his fiancée’s tone, for good reason too. The last anyone’s heard about his sketches was the day that Castiel ripped them apart with his cold, uncaring words.  
  
Dean shrugs, still stunned. “I, um, didn’t wanna say anything until it was decided. No point in getting disappointed if it didn’t work out, you know?”  
  
“Come on, boy. If those idjits know what’s good for them, they’ll go with your work,” Bobby grunts with Ellen nodding in agreement.  
  
Dean gives him a grateful smile. “Thanks Bobby.”  
  
“Maybe you can show us all what you’ve done, Dean,” John says, which stuns Dean just as much as Cas’ words. He’s not sure if he’s mocking him or not, but it seems sincere enough…  
  
“Oh, uh, yeah sure. I could scan them and email them. But don’t expect too much.” Dean gives a nervous laugh. Maybe John actually is trying- that he does want to make things right again… Maybe Dean’s been too hard on him.  
  
“Always the modest one,” Jo teases.  
  
“I brought them along if you wanted to show your family now,” Castiel murmurs to him and Dean freezes mid-chew, more than grateful he wasn’t in the middle of swallowing or else he’d probably be choking on a taco right about now.  
  
Did… Did he just hear that right? Cas brought his sketches with him? “Uh, what?”  
  
Castiel presses his lips together, clearly not amused by Dean’s dumbfound reaction. “I said I brought them along. I can go get them.”  
  
Dean studies Cas’ face, but the man is completely serious.  
  
“Please show us, Cas! We really wanna see Dean’s work!” Charlie begs with the others joining her with their own prompts.  
  
Dean sighs, picking up his fork and stuffing a decent amount of rice into his mouth. “Fine. Go get 'em, Cas.”  
  
Castiel gives a small triumphant smile before rising from the couch and disappearing upstairs.  
  
“Just to forewarn you, they’re really just schematics right now. I’d make something prettier if they accept the concept,” Dean says, feeling the usual anxiety at the prospect of someone other than himself laying eyes on his sketches. He drew up a few things when he worked at a local firm here in Lawrence, but nothing that he came up with on his own. It was mostly drawing what the client’s vision was- no creative freedom.  
  
And even though he thought Designs of Divinity could allow him more of that freedom, being Castiel’s assistant squashed that hope. He’s had no opportunities to submit his own work for consideration, so he’s not exactly confident that what he draws is even worthwhile.  
  
“I’m sure they’ll look great, Dean,” Ellen gives him a reassuring smile and Dean nods, trying not to rub his palms against his knees.  
  
Castiel reappears with a small, round tube and pulls the top off before shaking out the various, rolled up pieces of tracing paper. He can see the black scribbles and lines from his seat and cringes slightly, knowing it must look like a mess to an untrained eye.  
  
His gaze follows Castiel as he separates the rolled up papers and passes them around, everyone smoothing the sketches on their laps while their eyes take in the marks on the pages. Dean watches their expressions very closely for any and all reactions.  
  
“This one is just a bunch of circles and words?” Bobby notes, studying the page in front of him with Ellen looking over his shoulder.  
  
Dean chuckles. “That one you’re holding is actually where it all started. We don’t dive straight into drawings of buildings and houses. We get the most minimal details on paper first and then build from there. It’s kinda like the rough draft of the rough draft, or mind map to get started with.”  
  
Castiel takes his seat beside him again and Dean flashes him a look that’s supposed to be irritable but feels more like panic. Dean’s almost sure he imagined it, but Castiel gives him the tiniest, reassuring smile but looks away to watch everyone murmur over the drawings.  
  
“These are so cool, Dean,” Charlie says in awe.  
  
Dean snorts. “It’s okay. You can say they’re terrible. You won’t be hurting my feelings.”  
  
Sam’s head snaps up to meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowed with a sort of intensity to his eyes. “Dean, seriously. We may not know much about architecture, but these are _good_. And you say these are basically your rough draft? You should be proud,” he pauses, as if unsure of what he wants to say next but says it anyway, voice softening, “I know I am.”  
  
Dean feels his heart swell at his brother’s words and everyone nods in agreement, offering their own praises and encouragements. Well, everyone except John, who’s just studying the paper in his hands silently.  
  
Dean smiles, mostly out of embarrassment for their words simply because he doesn’t think he deserves them. Out of everyone here, Castiel’s impression was the most important but he shot him down, so while it’s nice to receive compliments from his family, they won’t get him recognized and promoted.  
  
Gradually, everyone hands the sheets of tracing paper back to Castiel, who neatly and carefully rolls them up once again and slides them into the safety of the tube.  
  
Dean’s thankful when everyone falls back into easy chatter as they finish eating and he relaxes into the couch. Maybe this weekend won’t be as stressful as he anticipated. Sure, he thought that before and has already had his fair share of bumps in the road. And sure, his dad might make a few comments that set him off, but wounds don’t heal overnight. He’s not going to give up hope that everything will be alright.  
  
The group’s in the middle of deciding whether or not line dances are to be permitted at the reception- Dean and Bobby vote no when apparently everyone else votes yes- when Jess squeals at the screen of Sam’s lap top.  
  
“Guys, they sent the jpegs of our pictures from the brewery!”  
  
“How’d they turn out?” Ellen asks, moving to get a look at the screen.  
  
“They look amazing! They gave us a print while we were there but we didn’t get to see the others we took,” Jess says.  
  
Dean fights off the blush that’s threatening to spread across his face. Shit, Jess is about to show everyone their pictures, isn’t she? The pictures of him and Cas holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes and kissing… He feels Castiel tense up beside him and Dean knows he must be dreading the same thing.  
  
He watches their reactions as they click through the various poses and he knows the moment they get to the ones with him and Cas. Ellen’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open slightly, Jess and Sam mimicking her.  
  
“Wow, those are… something,” Ellen says quietly.  
  
“Pass it over here!” Charlie quips. Wordlessly, Sam hands the lap top to Charlie and Dean glances minutely across Cas at the screen.  
  
Right there, full screen, are the last two poses the photographer instructed them to do stacked on top of each other; the top one being the forehead touch and eye contact, the bottom one the kiss.  
  
“Holy shit guys,” Charlie breathes.  
  
Dean can’t fight it off anymore and his face heats up all the way to his ears while Cas fidgets beside him.  
  
“Yeah, uh, Jess wanted us to jump in. We didn’t mean to photobomb, we swear” Dean explains quickly.  
  
“Exactly,” Cas adds awkwardly.  
  
Charlie looks up at them, eyes shifting from Castiel to Dean, a wide smile spreading across her face. “I’m glad she did! This is beyond adorable! The Winchester brothers and their loves,” she sighs happily.  
  
“I think we’re the ones who ended up photobombing _you_ ,” Sam snickers.  
  
“You guys look like you need a moment alone,” Jo teases with a laugh, looking over Charlie’s shoulder at the screen.  
  
“Oh, we felt it too,” Jess giggles.  
  
What the hell does that mean? It instantly reminds Dean of that comment the guy in Metatron’s office made to Naomi- something about ‘ _that explains all that tension_ ’ or some shit like that. There’s _nothing_ going on between him and Cas. People must easily mistake loathing for sexual tension these days.  
  
“Alright alright, that’s enough,” Dean grumps, getting up from the couch. “Let’s finish up these weddings favors and call it a night, huh?” He tells himself that he’s only doing this because he’s tired and wants to go to bed. It’s definitely not an attempt to escape the situation that’s left the back of his neck burning with a blush and flutters behind his ribs.  
  
Sam groans. “In five minutes.”  
  
Dean smirks as he walks around and collects everyone’s plates. “Fine. You have until I’m done with the dishes.”  
  
“I can help you,” John says, rising from his recliner chair.  
  
Dean gets an uneasy feeling but pushes it away, reminding himself that this can be a good thing- that John is trying. His dad is trying.  
  
“Sure, thanks Dad.”  
  
They carry all the dishes to kitchen and John begins scraping any left overs into the garbage while Dean packs away the left over rice, beans and chicken into containers. They move to the sink, Dean taking the washing while John does the drying. They don’t speak for a couple minutes but John’s the one to break the silence between them.  
  
“Those sketches of yours looked nice.”  
  
Dean glances up at him. “You liked them?”  
  
He shrugs but nods. “Don’t get me wrong, I know nothing about that stuff, but they seemed good enough.”  
  
Dean holds back a dry chuckle. He knows that’s the best compliment he’ll get out of his dad so he takes it. “I appreciate it, sir.”  
  
“And I’m sorry that I’ve been… not the most gracious to you and Castiel.”  
  
Dean looks at him again, taken aback at the random apology. A compliment _and_ an apology? “It’s fine, Dad. I haven’t exactly been the best son either. And I know it’s a lot to adjust to and all.”  
  
“Those pictures of the four of you looked nice.”  
  
Dean searches the side of John’s face but there’s a mask settled over his features. The statement isn’t sarcastic or disgusted though.  
  
“Thanks. It was nice of them to let us in on their little photoshoot.”  
  
John nods. “Yes, it certainly was. Maybe going forward though, try not to take the focus away from Sam and Jess. Let them have their weekend.”  
  
Dean’s hands stop scrubbing, shoulders tensing up. “Excuse me?” John’s tone wasn’t accusatory or even have an edge to it, but why the hell would he feel the need to say that to him? He thinks Dean’s purposely taking attention away from his little brother?  
  
John continues drying the dish in his hands. “I’m just saying, Dean- this is about Sam and Jess. And if you and Castiel ever get to that point, then it can be about you guys.”  
  
Dean tensely resumes his scrubbing. “We weren’t trying to take anything away from them, Dad. They wouldn’t take no for an answer so we did what they wanted, okay?”  
  
“I suppose. It’s just a shame it wasn’t with someone who’ll be around a while. They really are good pictures.”  
  
That sends Dean over the edge and he drops the tongs he was cleaning, barely hearing it clatter against the sink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
  
John looks at him sharply- the first time he’s looked at Dean since coming in here. “Watch your mouth, son. And you know damn well what it means.”  
  
Dean crosses his arms, not caring that water and suds soak his shirt. “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”  
  
John scowls. “Come on, Dean. I know what’s really going on here. You’re using Castiel to get ahead in your career. Maybe you two have some sort of thing worked out- I don’t know- but it’s not right.”  
  
“Do you think that if I were using Cas to get ahead that I would be still his goddamn assistant?”  
  
John shrugs. “I don’t know. But if you were going anywhere in that career, you would’ve done it already. Maybe that’s why you’re getting all cozy with him. Why don’t you save yourself the time and effort and come back home? I mean, you have so much potential Dean, and you still have time to make something of yourself.” John takes a deep breath, softening his tone. “I know you think I’m being hard on you, but I’m just thinking what’s best for my son. I want you to succeed, Dean. And I’m sure if you and Jo talked-“  
  
Dean cuts him off right there, voice hard and he’s barely managing to keep from shouting in John’s face. “ _No_ , Jo and I are done. I know how much you wanted us together but it didn’t work, okay? I have feelings for Cas, whether you can believe it or not. And I’ll be damned if I give up the thing I’ve wanted my whole life.”  
  
A humorless laugh escapes John’s lips and he’s shaking his head. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe Castiel is the love of your life. Let’s be realistic, Dean.”  
  
Dean feels anger boiling inside of him and it’s too much for him to handle that he doesn’t realize the words slipping out of his mouth until they’re left hanging in the air. “Well, you better warm up to the idea soon because Cas and I are engaged.”  
  
John quiets, narrowing his eyes at him. “You’re joking.”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “Nope. We’re getting married- and we weren’t going to say anything until after the wedding but since you’re _so_ insistent on sticking your nose in my relationship, now you know.”  
  
He doesn’t wait for John to respond before stalking back to the living room where everyone, including Cas, is laughing over something. Blood is pounding in his ears and he feels breathless, unable to fight the blinding anger that’s taken over.  
  
“Everyone, I have an announcement to make.”  
  
All eyes fall on him, including Castiel’s which turn weary at his sudden entrance. Dean holds his gaze as Castiel scrunches his brows together and gives the smallest shake of his head. Cas knows he’s about to do something regrettable and he’s warning him not to say it. But he can’t. Dean knows Castiel is going to hate him for this but he’s too angry to think clearly at this point.  
  
"Cas and I are engaged."  
  


*****

  
All eyes immediately shift to Castiel, wide and surprised, as if waiting for him to give confirmation but all he can do is smile sheepishly at them. What the _hell_ is Dean doing?

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Bobby asks.

“We were going to wait until after the wedding- we didn’t want to take the attention away from Sam and Jess,” Dean says.

Jess’ confusion melts into a smile. “Guys, you didn’t need to do that. This is huge!”

Everyone else murmurs in agreement, unsure faces slowly giving way to smiles of support, although they’re still wary because despite what’s supposed to be happy news, Dean is seething where he stands.

“Stop acting like a child Dean. I’m just being realistic here. I have a hard time believing that you’re actually in love is all. Maybe you should both slow it down,” John appears behind him, gaze filled with muted anger and his voice has a sharp edge to it.

Dean’s jaw clenches and he saunters forward, pulling Castiel from the couch and crushing their lips together in a heated kiss. For a second, Castiel is too stunned to move but then Dean’s voice from early kicks up in his head.

 _Kiss back, idiot._ So he does, and he tries his best to match Dean’s heat but it’s so filled with an intense energy, Castiel’s struggling to keep up.

He’s panting when Dean breaks away, his heart pounding in his chest and his face burning.

“Does that convince you?” Dean growls, looking back at John and keeping a tight arm around Castiel’s waist. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found bruises there in the morning.

John laughs and Bobby gets up from his seat, yanking John back into the kitchen with Ellen following.

“I’m sorry, guys,” Sam says sadly after a minute, breaking the tense silence. “Dad is… he’s just lost right now and he doesn’t mean that.” Despite what’s supposed to be a reassuring comfort, Sam sounds weak and doubtful in his tone, but what else can he say right now? It’s safe to say this was a failure on multiple levels.

Castiel catches Sam’s eye and nods a silent thanks to him for the attempt and the corner of Sam’s mouth lifts a little. Castiel can’t help but think what a difference this look that Sam’s giving him now is as opposed to yesterday when he caught Sam staring him down from across the table.

Dean snorts but doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t let that discourage you. We’re all happy for you guys,” Jo adds. Castiel meets her eyes next but there’s no malice, only kindness with a hint of confusion, but that’s to be expected.

Charlie stands up and wraps her arms around the both of them tightly. “We love you guys and we’re glad you’re happy.” The others follow her lead, each giving them a tight hug and congratulating them. Castiel’s the one to speak up and accept their kind words, Dean staying completely silent beside him.

“Why don’t you guys head up for the night? We can handle the rest of the favors,” Sam suggests.

“Are you sure, Sam?” Castiel questions.

Sam waves them away. “Of course. Just get some sleep and don’t worry about it.”

Castiel feels Dean’s body sag against his as if Sam’s words just allowed him to feel all the stress and exhaustion he’s been holding inside.

“Thanks Sammy. Night guys,” Dean finally says in a defeated voice, pulling Castiel along with him as they walk- even though Castiel’s fairly certain if he wasn’t there for Dean to hold on to, he’d collapse on the floor.

“Goodnight everyone,” Castiel tells them as they disappear from view. At the stairs, Dean drops his arm and ascends quietly with dragging feet, not even sparing him a glance.

Once they’re behind the closed door of Dean’s room, Castiel crosses his arms, the shock of everything subsiding to leave nothing but anger in its place.

“What the hell was that?”

“I told you before- we’d tell them how I wanted to.”

“Oh yeah, and that went so well. Why didn’t you warn me beforehand?” Castiel glares at him, voice hard.

Dean sighs as he starts to shed his clothes and change into his pajamas, apparently not caring if Castiel was standing there watching. “You know what Cas? I’m too tired for this tonight. What happened, happened, and if you’re so unsatisfied with my performance feel free to find a new husband.”

Castiel stares at him in disbelief before shaking his head. He grabs his pajamas- well, the t-shirt- and changes in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to help calm him. When he walks back into the room, he sees Dean wincing as he shifts on the floor to find a comfortable spot.

He sighs, all the anger draining from his body at the sight. He really does feel bad for Dean. He’s under a lot of pressure to sell this… thing to his family. This weekend probably would’ve been difficult for Dean anyway with how rocky his relationship with his father is. Add Castiel to the mix and it must be exponentially more stressful.

Ever since this whole situation materialized, Castiel’s perception of Dean has been slowly evolving. He thought he knew exactly who Dean was and Castiel… well, it’s no secret that he looked down on him before. But now?

Now, he’s paying closer attention to find out who Dean really is- because it’s certainly not the person Castiel assumed him to be. From what Castiel’s observed so far- and what he gathered from his talk with Jo- Dean cares immensely for those around him. And for some unknown reason, Castiel had the sudden urge to return the favor tonight. Whether Dean took it all as part of their deception or not, he wanted to try.

Apparently though, old habits die hard. He barely gave it a thought before ripping into Dean about the train wreck announcement for their engagement. On top of everything else that must be weighing down Dean’s mind, Castiel’s outburst certainly didn’t help matters. He should make it right, or at least try.

“Um, do you want to switch tonight? I can take the floor.”

Dean shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, Cas. I’ll be fine.”

Castiel frowns. No, he _refuses_ to let Dean sleep on the floor after the night he’s had. “You’re going to mess up your back. Take the damn bed.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, Cas.” Dean’s voice is hard and final, sounding more irritated than tired now.

Amongst other things, Castiel is quickly realizing Dean Winchester is synonymous with stubborn. But he can be stubborn too.

“Then share the bed with me.”

Dean’s head snaps up to look at him. “What?”

Castiel resists the urge to roll his eyes while fighting off yet another blush and repeats his offer, “We can share the bed tonight, if you want.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You’re okay with that?”

Castiel shrugs. “We’ve kissed, haven’t we? Unless you’re uncomfortable with it.”

Dean frowns, looking prepared to deny the offer again but it seems the bed wins over the floor and he gets up, wincing again. Castiel doesn’t say anything more and crawls onto his side, Dean sliding in next to him- but not too close.

They flip off the lights, neither of them saying goodnight, and silence stretches between them, leaving Castiel with nothing but his thoughts.

He’s waiting for his anger to resurface but it doesn’t. All that’s there is that guilt, which bothers him. He thought maybe offering Dean the bed would ease some of it, but no. It’s still very much there like a thick blanket wrapped around him.

Guilt is not good.

Guilt means he’s getting emotionally involved on some level, and emotions will lead to complications or an end to their arrangement entirely. He can’t let himself have sympathy. No more of this ‘find out who Dean is’ nonsense. The only things he should be trying to find out are the answers to any questions Zachariah might hit them with.

He needs to keep the real goal in mind. Save his career.

Castiel chants it in his head, but it still doesn’t stop his mind from wandering to that kiss- the heated one in the living room. It took his breath away. It’s as if Dean transferred every little emotion that was raging in his body to Castiel and it was more than he could handle. He tries not to let himself get overwhelmed with such feelings in general, so the intense wave of receiving every little bit of what Dean felt at that moment practically knocked him out.

He shuts out the unwelcome thoughts, trying to focus on the chanting, but there’s a small flutter in his stomach that won’t go away. Castiel can only take this as a bad thing. There’s something… some small spark that's been set off and it’s not dangerous yet, but the greatest fires can result from the most insignificant flame.

He must extinguish it before it swallows him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boy, wasn't that fun? :D Hope you guys enjoyed, as always <3  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say thank you all for being patient with me when I update this. I'm really trying not to go more than 4 days without an update, but I know it sucks to wait days between chapters. So really, thank you for sticking with me and leaving your beautiful comments <3 You're all amazing and I hope you enjoy the chapter (and a certain scene ;))

Sleep eases itself from Dean, the conscious world welcoming him back. He keeps his eyes closed, relishing in the peaceful quiet of the house. For once he hasn’t been jerked awake by some external source. He wonders if anyone is up yet or if he’s the first.  
  
He thinks about going back to sleep, but he likes waking up like this- with nothing making the decision for him. If he were to return to dreamland, he can guarantee his second awaking won’t be so nice.  
  
With that in mind, he opens his eyes and shifts ever so slightly before freezing, becoming very much aware of the leg that’s hooked around his. He turns his head to find Castiel mere inches away from him and he startles softly at the sudden closeness, heart basically jumping into his throat.  
  
Well, that’s one way to snap him out of a sleepy morning haze.  
  
The movement makes Cas shift in his sleep, clutching himself tighter to Dean with his head nuzzling into his shoulder and still dead asleep. That’s when he feels Castiel’s arm around his waist and… are those his own fingers curled around Cas’ forearm?  
  
How the in the fuck did they end up like this? They were both on the extreme edge of the bed last night when they went to sleep, completely separated from each other with their backs turned. But now they’re both in the center and tangled together.  
  
Dean swears his heartbeat alone will be enough to wake Cas because it’s deafening in his ears. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath because he needs to not freak out right now. As much as Dean thought the eggshells around the two of them were starting to clear, that little episode last night scattered them once again and guess who’s going to be stepping on them?  
  
Here’s a hint: it’s him.  
  
Now that their fake engagement is out in the open, they need to really sell it and a day of stilted words and avoiding eye contact won’t do them any favors.  
  
With that in mind, Dean takes several more deep breaths because _holy shit_ , he’s actually laying in a bed with Castiel Novak wrapped around him.  
  
He reopens his eyes and turns back to look at Cas, knowing he should wake him and put a stop to this before it becomes more awkward than it needs to be but… he can’t help but admire a peaceful Castiel this close to him.  
  
Dean would be a dirty liar if he denied finding Castiel appealing. He’s honestly one of the most attractive people Dean’s laid eyes on- and he’s seen plenty of pretty people. When he first started working with Castiel, he had to force himself not to stare and regularly banished inappropriate thoughts from his mind. It took a couple months for him to get a grip and master the difficult art of self-control. Although, Castiel made it easier whenever he opened his mouth or shot icy daggers at Dean.  
  
But as long as Dean’s known Castiel, he’s rarely been this close to him long enough to study his features without that scowl present. He takes in the dark, disheveled hair, sweeping his gaze down to the perfect angle of his nose and along the prominent line of his jaw, which is shadowed with stubble. He dares to let his eyes fall on those dry, pink lips, imagining how when Cas wakes, he might lick them to moisten them up again. And if those blue eyes were open and staring at him, Dean’s sure his mind would just go blank as he lost himself in them.  
  
He squeezes his eyes shut, refraining from face palming so hard. What in the hell is wrong with him? What is he thinking? If the growing tent of his pajama pants is any indication, it’s terrible, ridiculous thoughts. He’s gotta get out of here. Now.  
  
He eases Cas’ arm off his waist and begins to untangle their legs when Castiel’s sleepy blue eyes open. He gazes at Dean for a moment before registering the situation and scoots away, face reddening.  
  
“Dean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize- I don’t know how-“ he stutters, clearly embarrassed.  
  
Dean chuckles to hide his own embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it, Cas.”  
  
Castiel scrubs a hand down his face. “I’ll sleep on the floor next time, I promise.”  
  
Dean scrunches his eyebrows at him. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but then again, he was way too content laying there staring at Cas while his thoughts ran wild. “Seriously Cas, it’s fine. Unless you want to sleep on the floor, I don’t mind either way.”  
  
Castiel looks up at him doubtfully. “Really?”  
  
Dean smiles, hoping it doesn’t look too forced. He should tell Castiel that yeah, sleeping separately is the best option. He shouldn’t ignore the red flag that’s waving in the back of his mind. He _shouldn’t_ ignore it, but apparently that doesn’t mean he will.  
  
“Yeah. It’s nice to know you can’t resist cuddling me.” He winks and Castiel rolls his eyes.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself.”  
  
Dean laughs, getting out of bed and making sure to conceal the evidence of his early morning musings from Cas. “Be down for breakfast in twenty minutes,” he says roughly before grabbing his clothes and toiletries bag and hurrying to the bathroom.  
  
Once he’s safe behind the locked door, he sheds his shirt and slides off his pajama pants, looking down at his stiff cock with a sigh. He should not be having these thoughts, especially while sharing a bed with the guy. But it’s not like he’s never thought about Castiel in that way. How could he not?  
  
Against all better judgement, he hesitantly reaches down and gasps his cock in his hand, exhaling a shaky breath at the touch. He slowly strokes himself, his thumb grazing over the head and spreading the pearl of precome down the side.  
  
He closes his eyes, imaging that it’s Cas stroking his cock and he moans softly. He thinks of professional and poised Castiel, who is always so articulate and dignified when he speaks, whispering dirty promises in his ear. Things like, _‘You were late again this morning, Dean. You know the consequences, and this time, I won’t go easy on you,’_ before Castiel bends him over his desk and fucks him until tears are streaming down his face.  
  
Dean grasps the edge of the sink to brace himself, biting his lip to withhold the sounds that desperately want to escape his throat. He starts to quicken his strokes, moving his hips in time with his hand as his thoughts shift from Castiel fucking him on his own desk to a different, but equally as appealing situation.  
  
He pictures himself bursting into Castiel’s office, so much frustration and desire twisted inside him with only one way to tame the burning fire. He imagines himself pinning Castiel to the back of that thick, wooden door and taking him right there against it until Castiel is screaming Dean’s name with every thrust of his hips and begging him for release while he revels in being the one in charge for once.  
  
Dean thrusts once more into his fist before he’s throwing his head back and falling over the edge in an explosion of bliss, spilling into his hand and gasping for air, effectively keeping his ragged moans contained.  
  
He stands for a moment, still clutching the sink to ground himself while he catches his breath. He can’t help but smile lazily to himself. He shouldn’t be happy about what he just did, but fuck, it was the best release he’s had in a while. And maybe now that he’s gotten it out of his system, he can stop having these ludicrous thoughts about Cas.  
  
He washes up, finishes getting ready and is downstairs ten minutes later, giving Sam and Jess a cheery good morning as they sit at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee.  
  
“Did you sleep well?” Jess asks, smiling at Dean.  
  
“Yeah, I did actually. Thanks for not waking us, by the way.” He starts moving around the kitchen to collect ingredients for omelets.  
  
“We figured you guys could use the rest. Yesterday was… taxing and you guys looked like you needed it,” Sam says as he clears the kitchen table of the leftover supplies from the wedding favors and placement cards.  
  
Dean cringes at the memory. His thoughts about Cas momentarily made him forget about that disaster. It was the worst possible way to announce the engagement- not to mention his meltdown with John that caused it- but it needed to be done anyway. He doesn’t really want to think about it too much because today is supposed to be a good day.  
  
“Well, thanks. So today’s our last day in Lawrence, right?”  
  
“Yep! We just have a few things to do today and then we get our evening for fun,” Jess tells him.  
  
Ah, yes. Fun. Dean grins and looks over his shoulder at Sam. “That’s right. Ready for your bachelor party?”  
  
Sam smirks. “I’m a little worried, but yes, I’m ready. I think Jess is going to have more fun than me though.”  
  
She giggles in response. “You have nothing to worry about. I think I’m the one who should be worried.”  
  
Dean snorts. “Come on, Jess. I’ll probably have to loosen him up to have a decent time. But I’ll keep an eye on him.”  
  
Dean focuses on the omelets while Sam and Jess murmur quietly to each other, one of them giving the occasional laugh. He smiles to himself, knowing that if he looked at them right now, they’d be sitting close, heads craned towards each other and smiling those adoring smiles at each other.  
  
When Dean’s done with their food, he motions for them to pick up their plates and starts on his and Cas’.  
  
“Good morning,” Cas’ gravelly voice announces and Dean looks over his shoulder at him while Sam and Jess greet him.  
  
“Yours is up in a few,” Dean tells him, fighting a blush at the thought of his most recent imaginings that involved Castiel. Cas nods and crosses the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.  
  
“Do you both have anything planned for today?” Castiel asks Sam and Jess.  
  
“Mostly just last minute errands, but we have to be done by the evening,” Sam says.  
  
“Oh, why is that?”  
  
“Bachelor party, Cas!” Dean says excitedly, sliding the plate with his omelet across the counter and Cas stops it before it flies off the edge.  
  
“Bachelor party?”  
  
Dean picks up his own plate and heads to the table, Cas taking a seat beside him. “Hell yeah! Gotta celebrate the last few nights of Sam’s time as a free man.” Jess reaches across the table to smack him playfully on the arm and Dean laughs.  
  
“I see, “Castiel says, taking a bite of his omelet and Dean will never get over the face he makes whenever he eats his food.  
  
“So Cas, I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll be tagging along with me today,” Jess tells him.  
  
Shit. It completely slipped his mind to tell Cas their plans for the day. “Uh, yeah. Sorry I forgot to tell you, but Sammy and I have some brother type stuff to do today. Jess won’t bite though.” He glances at Cas, expecting annoyance but he actually looks relieved. He’s probably still pissed at him and wants to be as far away from Dean as possible.  
  
Castiel smiles at her. “I would love to accompany you, Jess.”  
  
They all finish eating and then it’s time to go their separate ways. Castiel jogs upstairs to the room to get a jacket and Dean follows him.  
  
“Hey, sorry I forgot to mention today’s plans.” He leans against the doorway as Castiel digs through his suitcase.  
  
“It’s fine, Dean.”  
  
Dean scowls at the response because nothing is ever ‘fine’. “You’re not mad?”  
  
Castiel pulls out the jacket he was searching for and pulls it on. “Do I wish you mentioned it earlier? Yes. But it’s pointless to argue over it. I thought that’s what you wanted.”  
  
Dean frowns. “Well yeah but,” he pauses. Something’s off. “Are you okay, Cas?”  
  
Castiel finally meets Dean’s gaze, eyebrows furrowed and he looks taken aback by the question. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”  
  
Dean shrugs. “I just thought after last night… I don’t know man. I want to make sure we’re-“ Shit, now he sounds like a babbling idiot. “You’re just acting… different.”  
  
“Different…” Cas echoes.  
  
Dean snorts, shaking his head. Why is he so worried about Cas anyway? He should just be grateful they’re not at each other’s throats right now. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”  
  
Castiel sighs. “Dean, I don’t know what you want from me. We argue, and you’re upset. We don’t argue, and you’re upset. I’m not sure how I am supposed to please you, but may I remind you that this is a business deal, so let’s keep it as such.”  
  
Dean looks away, Castiel’s cold, mechanical words hitting him harder than they should. But something _is_ off with Cas. He knows it. “Yeah, you’re right.”  
  
“Come on you two! Save the making out for later!” Sam calls up the stairs and it snaps them both out of whatever is going on between them.  
  
Castiel brushes past Dean and after a moment of hesitation, Dean follows him.  
  
When Jess and Castiel leave, Sam turns to face him. “Alright, are you ready?”  
  
Dean nods with a small frown. The next couple of hours are going to be rough, but he’s ready.  
  
He’s ready to see his mother.  
  
“Yeah, let’s go.”  
  


*****

Castiel stares out the window, watching the scenery of Lawrence race past him while vaguely hearing the radio play in the background. He still feels unsettled by his conversation with Dean. The question came out of nowhere.

_“Are you okay, Cas?”_

It’s such a foreign concept to him. He can’t remember the last time someone has looked at him like that and asked him if he’s okay. Maybe Dean was just being nice, but it felt sincere enough. He honestly doesn’t understand why Dean would be so concerned about him when the guy hates every last bit of his soul. And if anything, Castiel is the one that should be asking Dean that question. Yesterday was probably Dean’s worst nightmare come true and he must be stressed to the max trying to juggle everything and everyone.

And despite all of that, he still asked Castiel if he was okay.

Castiel knows he’s been acting differently and he made a pact last night to put a stop to it. However, he didn’t realize it would be so difficult to keep. Waking up so close to the man didn’t do him any favors either, which is why he was so relieved to know he'd be spending some time away from Dean today. He needs to clear his head and reevaluate what is happening to him, because how can try to put an end to something if he doesn’t know what it is?

But… what exactly is happening to him?

As much as he wants to deny it, something is happening. He tried to deny it after their first kiss. He tried to deny it after talking to Jo. He tried to deny it as he stood by and watched Dean Winchester put everyone before himself. He’s made excuses, he’s stifled feelings, or blatantly ignored them. But he can’t anymore.

So now he has to correct it. He tried to this morning. It was mostly for his sake than for Dean’s, but even so, he hated every word that came out of his mouth. And that’s the problem.

“Thanks for coming along with me, Cas,” Jess’ happy voice snaps him back to reality.

He looks over at her with a smile. “Of course. I’m happy to see more of the town Dean grew up in.” The sad part is, it’s not even a lie to play his part. To his own annoyance, he wants to know every little detail of who Dean Winchester is- what was his favorite place to go on sunny days? Did he and Sam ride their bikes by that park? Did he get his ice cream from that parlor? Or that one? What flavor did he get? Where was the last place he went with his mother?

Castiel subtly pinches himself to stop the flood of questions that are rapidly consuming his mind. No, he’s not allowed to want to know any of this other irrelevant information about Dean.

Jess laughs beside him. “I know the feeling. The Winchesters are some of the best people I know. They may be a little rough around the edges, but their family is something else.”

Castiel smiles softly. “I felt it the moment I first saw everyone. I am grateful to be witness to such great love.”

“And you’ll feel that love too,” Jess tells him sincerely. Castiel opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out, so she continues. “I know you and Dean only announced your engagement yesterday, but you’re already family, Cas.”

Castiel swallows, her words heavy on him. He’s never felt this amount of acceptance before and it’s honestly overwhelming. “Thank you. I know that our relationship isn’t exactly the easiest to comprehend. We have complicated history and what we have seems strange… but I appreciate your approval.”

Jess reaches over to take his hand and gives it a soft squeeze. “I’ll be honest with you, Cas. When Dean first told us you were together, we were doubtful. We’re all very protective of him and he’s said some pretty outrageous things about you.”

Castiel feels his face redden. He can’t even imagine the words Dean’s said about him. He doesn’t want to know.

“But we were wrong. I’ve known Dean for some time now and believe me when I say that I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. What you two have… it’s unique, but it’s special too. I just ask you to please not hurt him. He’s been through a lot and… he just can’t take another hit.”

Castiel squeezes her hand back, a lump forming in his throat. “I assure you, if anyone is going to be left heartbroken, it’s me.”

Jess gives him a sad smile. “Let’s just hope we never get to that point.” Castiel nods and then Jess dives into the list of the errands they need to accomplish by the time evening comes around, but Castiel is only half listening.

Jess is the second person to comment on Dean’s apparent happiness, which completely astounds him. He can’t fathom that Dean could be at all happy pretending to be in a relationship with him. There’s just no way.

And why the hell did he say what he said? He's the one who will be heartbroken? As much as Castiel wants to do what he’s been doing and deny every word, he knows it’s true. It’s ridiculous though. To be heartbroken, there has to be some level of love and he certainly does not love Dean Winchester. Perhaps there’s a level of fondness that has developed, but love?

That’s laughable.

He feels his stomach knot up and he desperately wants to know how he can stop this spark from raging out of control. Maybe he’s not trying hard enough because some small part of him doesn’t want to stop-a small part that longs for love and affection.

That’s it then. That’s where he needs to start. Find that part of him and destroy it because it has no place here.

Because what if he really does end up heartbroken?

*****

“Did you really make Cas listen to these old cassettes the whole way here?”

Dean glances over at his brother digging through the box and snorts. “Of course! If the man is going to be my husband, he’s gotta know what he’s signing up for.”

Sam laughs, putting the box down. “I should tell him to run while he still can.”

Dean chuckles because he knows Cas won’t run for anything. He’s seeing this marriage through one way or another. To save his ass from deportation. Because that’s all that matters to him. Nothing else. No one else.

Castiel made that clear this morning.

“I could tell you the same thing. Getting any second thoughts?”

Sam smiles but shakes his head. “Not at all. I keep asking myself that too. Like, if there was the time to run, to change my mind and call the whole thing off, this is it. But every single time, I can’t bring myself to feel that way. Jessica is just… She’s the one, Dean. I’d never thought I’d say that, but she’s the one.”

Dean grins, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m really happy for you, man. You and Jess are going to have a long, happy life. I’m a little jealous of you, actually.”

Sam shoves his arm lightly. “Oh come on, Dean. You can’t fool me.”

Dean furrows his brow and glances over at his brother. “What?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You and Cas! That’s going to be you guys soon enough. I know you don’t like being all mushy and crap, but that façade isn’t going to work on me.”

Dean smirks, returning his eyes back to the road. “You honestly think Cas and I will live happily ever after?”

Sam shrugs. “Maybe not happily ever after, but you guys will be happy.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I know you, Dean. And I’m not blind either.”

Dean opens his mouth to retort but closes it. What exactly does that mean?

Sam sighs. “I know you’re looking for an out. You’re scared. But don’t run away from this, Dean. I see the way you look at him and then the way he looks at you. Don’t ruin that.”

Dean scowls. “I thought you didn’t even like him.”

Sam shrugs. “I had my reservations.”

Dean shoots him a look and Sam huffs. “Okay fine, I hated him before I even met him. But I mean, what am I supposed to think of a guy who seemed to make your life a living hell for two years? I had no intentions of liking the guy, honestly,” Dean smirks while Sam continues, “But after seeing it with my own two eyes, I misjudged. You guys may be in a complex situation, but I know love when I see it.”

That makes Dean laugh. “Okay Dr. Phil.”

“I’m serious, Dean. Don’t screw this up for yourself.”

Dean pulls onto a gravel road and parks the car off to the side, silencing the Impala’s throaty growls so all that’s left is silence. He looks to Sam, who is watching him with a serious expression.

“Thanks Sammy.”

Sam pats him on the shoulder and then looks ahead of them at the sea of headstones and flowers. “Come on, let’s go see Mom.”

Dean nods, taking a deep breath and getting out of the car, snagging his bouquet of flowers from the backseat, Sam doing the same.

They follow the familiar path through the cemetery, Dean glancing down at the names he’s come to know over the years. Every step feels like he might collapse and his heart is thumping wildly in his chest. This never gets easier.

He finally spots the familiar pink-tinted granite stone, the one that has _Mary Winchester_ carved into it. Dean already feels his throat closing up as he fights back tears. He’s only just got here and already he’s about to cry. He swallows down the feeling but thankfully Sam is the one to speak up first.

“Hey, Mom.”

They stand in silence for a moment before Dean kneels down, still clutching the flowers. “Sammy’s getting married, Mom. But you probably already knew that.” He laughs lightly in an attempt to stave off his tears for the moment.

Sam sinks down beside him. “Her name is Jess, and next to you, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Dean nods in agreement. “You would’ve loved her.”

And they go on like that; talking as if the three of them were in a park with the sun shining down on them all, catching up with their mother. They sit there talking for an hour before Sam pats Dean on the shoulder and stands. He presses his fingers to his lips and touches them delicately to the top of the headstone, murmuring a “Love you, Mom”, then leaves to give him his privacy. Sam never truly met their mother, and that doesn’t stop him from loving her, but he understands how much she meant to Dean.

Dean watches Sam go before turning back to stone and he can’t hold it in anymore. A choked sob rips its way from his throat and he buries his face in his hands.

“I miss you so much, Mom,” he cries into his hands, words muffled. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been to visit you in so long. I just… I wish you were here. I’m so lost and I could use one of your hugs right now. You always knew how to cheer me up and… I don’t know.”

He closes his eyes but it doesn’t help. All he can see are flames flickering behind his eyelids, smell the smoke that fills his lungs, hear his dad’s broken cries. He feels like he might suffocate and he rips his hands away from his face and opens his eyes to the blue sky, letting it pull him from the awful memory.

It takes him a moment to calm down, but he never takes his eyes away from the blue. “I’ve done a bad thing, Mom. If you were here, I think I may have disappointed you.” He takes a deep breath because if there’s anyone he was going to spill his secret to, it would’ve been his mother.

“I’m engaged to a guy named Castiel. But it’s not what you think. He’s my boss and he was going to get deported so…” he cringes at his own words, knowing how horrible they sound. “We made a deal that gives us both something we want. I know, it’s bad. But…” he trails off.

After his little moment this morning in the bathroom, he thought maybe these conflicting thoughts about Castiel would subside, but his talk with Sam stirred up his confusion again. “Something’s changing. I can’t say exactly what it is, but it’s something. It sounds ridiculous, right?”

Of course, there’s no answer and Dean sighs. “It makes no sense, I know. But I’m scared, Mom. This guy… it’s only a business deal to him, but what if I’m…” he trails off, not even wanting to say it out loud. He must be going crazy or something because how in the hell could he possibly be developing feelings for Castiel Novak? After everything he’s put him through?

But he's starting to see another side to Castiel. A side that has Dean wanting to explore and get to know. 

He shakes his head, arranging the flowers around the headstone and that’s when he notices the small ring at the base. He picks it up and studies it, heart lurching when he realizes what it is. John’s wedding ring. He must’ve been here recently. He holds it tight in his hand, looking back up at the blue sky.

“Dad’s lost without you. Please help him, Mom. If you can, please help him. He’s hurting and he needs to know you’re still with him.”

He lets out a shaky breath and stands, sliding the ring into his pocket. “You always said angels were watching over me. I hope you’re right.”

A small breeze ruffles itself over Dean and he’s not sure if it’s some sign that Mary hears him or if it’s just convenient timing, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not sure he believes in that crap anyway. “I hope you get to see Sam on his wedding day, wherever you are. It’s going to be beautiful and you would be so proud of him.”

He wipes the wetness from his eyes and smiles down at the grave. “Bye Mom.”

He turns and walks back to the car where Sam is waiting. “You gonna be okay, Dean?”

Dean nods, giving his brother a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Ready to pick up those rings?”

*****

It’s evening by the time everyone is ready to have fun. They all returned from their errands late afternoon and have been packing ever since. It was probably bad planning that they set the time to leave for the wedding destination after a night of partying. Tomorrow’s going to be a struggle. But now all the wedding stuff is packed away and loaded into the cars. All that’s left to do is pack up their suitcases in the morning, hopefully not too hungover.

Dean slaps Sam on the back and starts pushing him towards the stairs. “Sorry Jess, but he’s gotta go get ready. He’s not going out all sweaty and smelly.”

Jess laughs. “Fine. I have to get ready myself. Gotta look hot for tonight.” She winks at Sam and he groans.

“Why do we even have these dumb parties?”

Dean grins and pushes him up the stairs again. “So the rest of us can revel in your misery.”

Sam grumbles under his breath and disappears into the bathroom. Dean turns to his closed door and knocks hesitantly.

“It’s open,” Castiel answers from the inside. Dean cautiously steps in, closing the door behind him.

He watches as Castiel finishes closing the last few buttons on his light gray button up shirt. His eyes travel down to the dark jeans that look a little tight in all the right places- and he’s stopping himself right there.

“Are you ready?”

Dean clears his throat and moves to his bag to dig out an outfit. “I will be in ten minutes. Sammy’s in the shower right now. Gotta wait for him to get out.”

Castiel pulls on a black blazer and it really ties the whole outfit together. “I can wait downstairs. I should probably put a call into Balthazar for a status update anyway.”

Dean laughs. “You have Balthazar spying for you?”

Castiel barely looks at Dean before moving past him. “I need to know what’s going on back in Chicago and Balthazar is the best person for the job.”

With that, he closes the door behind him. Dean sighs before shedding his clothes, deciding just to get ready here. Cas has been acting weird all day long. Dean thought their ‘confrontation’ in the room this morning was off but ever since they all got back from running around, Castiel’s barely even looked at him.

Dean can’t help but think that maybe Castiel suspects he’s developing feelings he shouldn’t be having and this is his way to remind Dean of why they’re here. Although, Dean wishes the old Castiel would come out and just tell him what’s going on. This new Castiel seems more careful with his words versus the blunt, unfiltered guy he was just a few days ago.

What changed?

A sudden wave of anger washes over Dean. No, that son of a bitch doesn’t get to just brush him aside. Sure, it’s nice they’re not fighting every few seconds, but Dean deserves to know what’s going on. If he’s doing something wrong, he wants to hear it. None of this keeping-everything-bottled-up shit.

He finishes getting ready, pulling on his jacket once he’s done and stuffs his wallet in the back pocket before marching downstairs. He finds Jess sitting on the couch with the phone pressed to her ear and she smiles at him. He raises his eyebrows questioningly and she understands, pointing towards the front door. He nods and goes outside to see Castiel standing on the porch, murmuring into his phone.

He walks up behind him and snatches the phone away, hanging up on whoever Castiel was talking to.

Castiel gasps and turns to meet Dean’s gaze, confusion quickly replaced with anger. “Dean, what the hell are you doing?”

“I want to know what’s going on with you.”

Castiel scowls and reaches for his phone but Dean pulls it away. “You’re not getting this back until you start talking.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs. “Before you couldn’t stop finding every little thing to criticize me for and now you’ve gone radio silent. Something’s up.”

Castiel presses his lips into a hard line and looks away. “Dean this is-“

“And don’t give me that ‘this is business’ bullshit. Tell me the truth.”

“Nothing is going on. I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you your space, by not breathing down your neck about everything.”

“Fine but you can’t be blowing me off, Cas. This afternoon?” Dean glances towards the door and lowers his voice. “People aren’t going to be very convinced if my supposed fiancé is giving me the cold shoulder.”

Castiel sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just that… I, um, got a phone call yesterday that concerned me.”

Dean furrows his brow. “From who?”

Castiel looks conflicted, like he’s debating whether to tell or not, so Dean reaches forward to rest his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas, you can tell me. We’re in this together, right?”

Stormy blue eyes flicker up to meet Dean’s and he relents. “It was my brother, Gabriel. I haven’t spoken to him in a long time.”

“What did he want?”

“Zachariah called him.”

Dean feels his stomach lurch and his hand slides from Cas’ shoulder. “What did he say?”

“Not much, I guess- just asked some questions about us. Gabe covered for me, but I’m concerned over our chances of success with this whole thing.”

Dean bites the inside of his cheek and hands Cas’ phone back to him. “You’re not thinking of bailing, are you?”

Castiel thinks it over but shakes his head, turning the phone around in his hands. “We’re too far in now to go back. We’re seeing it through.”

Dean nods, hating the wave of relief that washes away his worry and anger. “Well, try not to think about it too much tonight. We’re supposed to have fun, if you remember what that is.”

Castiel snorts and shoves Dean playfully. “At least I don’t have too much fun. Remember you’re engaged to me. No promiscuous behaviors.”

Dean acts mock offended. “I am a classy lady. I would never.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turns upwards and before Dean think something stupid or stare at him, several cars pull up into the drive way and people start to pile out, all of them being Sam’s buddies from college. Dean doesn’t know many of them, but that doesn’t stop them all from treating him like his brother.

Dean accepts the raucous hugs and slaps on the back, thanking them for taking the flight out here a couple days early for the wedding and runs inside to call Sam down.

When Sam finally appears in the doorway, he’s immediately swamped with hugs and being tossed about. Not too long later their ride appears; a white Hummer stretch limo. Unfortunately, there aren’t many party buses in Lawrence so this was the next best thing. Besides, no one will notice when they’re all wasted at the end of the night.

Everyone climbs in and as they begin pouring champagne to give a toast to Sam, the driver pulls away from the house and their night has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made up for the drama last chapter put you all through, lol  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a bit nervous to post this chapter, but here it is. So um, children: avert your eyes... ;)

Castiel raises his glass after one of Sam’s college buddies- Brady, was his name?- gives a toast to how this was going to be ‘one for the books’ and how ‘Sam may be marrying a wonderful girl, but that doesn’t mean he can’t party one last time!’. Castiel just tries not to groan.  
  
Typical college mentality. He suspects this whole night will be one big throwback to college for Sam and his friends.  
  
He sips at the bubbly drink, savoring the sweet yet bitter taste it leaves on his tongue. The rational part of his brain reminds him not to drink too much because alcohol has a rough history with good judgement. But then again, the thought of indulging himself in a drink or two sounds incredibly tempting. Tonight is the first night in a long time that he’s expected to relax, to party without reservations. He can’t even remember the last time he just let go and have fun.  
  
It’d also be nice to take the edge off…  
  
As enticing as the thought is, it’s probably best to take it slow. The last thing he wants to do is wake up tomorrow with regrets. They’ll just make everything that much more complicated. So instead of chugging the champagne like everyone else, he calmly enjoys each sip, watching the lights in the limo change color with the beat of the too loud song.  
  
Thankfully, it doesn’t take very long to get to the club and they don’t have to wait in the long line to get past the bouncer. Dean confidently strolls up to the guy, exchanges some words and then without any delay, an attractive woman in some rather suggestive attire appears to lead them to a special section of the club. They get a spacious booth that has a pole built into the center of the round table.  
  
Castiel guesses it’s not a decorative statement.  
  
The club is relatively dark, only lit by the dimmed lighting and colorful, flashing lights. The floor is constantly vibrating as the bass of the deafening music pumps through the building.  
  
This club isn’t just any trashy club though. It looks fairly high end and relatively clean, besides the thin layer of glitter that seems stuck to the floor. Castiel guesses it’s Dean who made tonight’s arrangements and he can’t say he’s too surprised. Dean doesn’t half-ass his work.  
  
All the guys file into the booth and Castiel slides in next to Dean on the end, who orders a round of shots for everyone right off the bat. A waitress appears seconds later with a tray of little glasses as if they were simply waiting for their group of ten guys to show up tonight. Everyone raises their shot glasses as Dean makes a toast.  
  
“To my little brother, who actually found a way to sneak us into this place when we were in high school! It was one of the proudest moments of my life. This is all for you, Sammy!” Dean’s words are met with a red faced Sam and bouts of laughter and cheers as they all down the shots.  
  
Castiel hesitates but throws his back, face twisting as the strong liquor burns his throat and up into his nose. It’s certainly been a while since he’s had a shot.  
  
It’s not long before a girl with softly curled dark hair shows up, giving a sweet smile to them all. “Hey boys! My name is Ruby and I hear it’s a special night for one lucky guy,” she purrs, looking straight at Sam with those large, alluring dark eyes.  
  
Sam gives a nervous laugh and Dean speaks up for him. “It sure is, Ruby! He’s a little bit shy so you might have to help him relax.”  
  
Ruby smiles seductively, climbing onto the table and crawls towards Sam. Her finger lifts his chin and Sam looks like a deer in headlights when he meets her gaze. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of ya.”  
  
There's a chorus of whistles as Sam’s face turns a deeper shade of crimson. Ruby, with the help of the guys, pulls Sam onto the table and settles him into a cushioned chair in front their booth, which must’ve just been put there.  
  
Once she has Sam settled, she hops back on the table and begins her dance. Castiel feels himself blush at the sultry way her body moves around the pole and the various positions she can pull off. He does admire her strength though.  
  
For most of her performance, Castiel is looking away. It’s an understatement to say he doesn’t fit in here at all. He’s never been to a club in his life, let alone one that involved adult entertainment. It all just feels so unusual. To watch strangers reveal their bodies so willingly. It seems like a private moment that he’s intruding on, even if they appear more than willing to share.  
  
But Dean, to his annoyance, can’t take his eyes away. He is next to Castiel whistling and cheering with everyone else, with the exception of Sam- who still looks like he’s enjoying the show, if a little guilty about it, but is maintaining some of his grace.  
  
Castiel just wants to fast forward through the rest of the evening and go home.  
  
Another round of shots is delivered to the table and a second woman, who Castiel didn’t bother to listen for a name, joins Ruby on the table and fuels the guys’ excitement, Dean’s included.  
  
The second woman then sets her eyes on Dean, looking pleased with a certain desire flickering in her eyes. “And the best man gets a special dance too for making this special night happen.”  
  
Dean gets a round of cheers and replaces Sam, who looks grateful to return to the safety of the booth, in the special chair. The second woman begins a different kind of dance on Dean, one more physical. For a moment, Castiel’s glad Sam didn’t get this kind of dance because he looked incredibly guilty just watching. Sam would’ve probably fainted if he got…  
  
It’s then Castiel realizes that Dean’s actually getting a _lap dance_. A full on, possibly pushing the limits, lap dance. And he can’t stand it anymore. He doesn’t want to sit here and pretend to have fun because this isn’t him.  
  
He shouldn’t be here.  
  
He should be back in Chicago pulling late nights to make up for his absence at work. He should be working to prove to Metatron that he deserves to stay, that he deserves to take on a project as significant as Bela’s. Most importantly, he shouldn’t be here with a pit in his stomach as his assistant, Dean Winchester, drools and fawns over beautiful women while one grinds into his body, biting her lip as if she’s tempted to break some unspoken rule.  
  
No, he has to get out of here.  
  
Castiel downs his shot and gets up from the table to disappear somewhere else, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to the bathroom,” and definitely ignoring when Dean calls after him.  
  
He goes to the bar and orders a beer, hoping maybe it’ll calm his chaotic mind and loosen him up a bit. When the bartender hands him a tall, pint glass of the golden liquor, he takes a long sip but reminds himself that he wanted to drink slowly tonight and regretfully puts it down, wiping some of the froth from his mouth.  
  
“Cas? What the hell man?” Dean appears at his side, heaving for air.  
  
“I needed to get a drink.”  
  
“I thought you were going to the bathroom. And we could’ve ordered one to the table, you know.”  
  
“I just wanted to stretch my legs.”  
  
“Bullshit. What’s wrong with you?”  
  
Castiel finally looks at him, noticing the glitter on his clothes from the woman who was giving him the intimate dance. He drags his eyes up to Dean’s irritated yet confused expression. “Why are you panting?”  
  
Dean laughs dryly. “I don’t know, Cas. Maybe when an attractive girl is showing me a good time, it’s a little exhilarating. And the fact that I just tore this place up trying to find where in the fuck you ran off to since you weren’t where you said you’d be.”  
  
Castiel scrunches his eyebrows together. “You were running? Isn’t that against some safety codes?”  
  
Dean groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re missing the point.”  
  
He huffs. “What is the point then?”  
  
Dean runs a hand through his hair, looking like he wants to explode and is barely holding it together. “Because! Because it’s my brother’s bachelor party! Because tonight it was supposed to be fun and you’re just being… you.” When the last word slips from his mouth, regret crosses Dean’s face as if he didn’t mean to say it.  
  
Castiel narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
Dean sighs. “Nothing. I mean- I don’t know.” He looks away, face troubled and Castiel’s not sure what to say. He supposes it’s pretty clear what Dean meant.  
  
“When was the last time you let yourself relax and have a good time?” Dean asks after a moment, returning his troubled gaze to Castiel.  
  
He shrugs. “I’m too busy to ‘relax’. There’s better ways to use my time and energy.”  
  
Dean scoffs. “I don’t think that’s it. I think you just don’t know how to have a good time.”  
  
“I know how to have a good time! I have great times, even,” he says defensively, although it’s a lie. But he can’t look helpless and pitiful in front Dean. Because then Dean gets arrogant and then another round of ‘who can out-do the other?’ ensues. And Castiel knows for certain he would lose this time.  
  
Dean laughs. “Come on, Cas. You didn’t think I would actually believe that, did you?”  
  
Castiel opens his mouth to retort but nothing comes out. Dammit.  
  
“No, I think you’re too scared,” Dean muses, leaning against the bar.  
  
A laugh sputters out of Castiel and he can’t seem to stop. Scared? Dean’s got to be joking. But when he meets Dean’s gaze again, he’s simply smiling that arrogant smile like he’s won and Castiel’s laughter dies down.  
  
“Dean, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard you say a lot of things.”  
  
A smirk. “Scared and in denial. Dually noted.”  
  
“I am not in denial. What do I have to be scared of?”  
  
Dean shrugs, eyes falling onto the moving bodies on the dance floor in front of the main stage. “I dunno. Maybe you feel like you can’t let go or something. You think that the moment you let your guard down, everything will fall apart around you- that there’s no room to take chances because what if you fail? Failure isn’t an option for you, so why give it the opportunity?”  
  
Dean’s eye flicker back to his for confirmation and Castiel feels his throat close up. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s truth to what Dean said. He _is_ scared to let his guard down because all it does is leave him exposed and vulnerable, pretty much guaranteed to hurt and feel pain. Why the hell would anyone want that? He’s had his fair share already and he won’t be making the same mistakes twice. He’s been happy thus far.  
  
He is happy, right?  
  
Castiel swallows down the lump and shoves aside all the emotions that threaten to expose themselves, burying them under the leveled smile he gives to Dean.  
  
“That’s very insightful of you, Dean. Except that you couldn’t be more wrong.”  
  
Dean chuckles and leans in close, dropping his voice to a pitch that sends shivers down Castiel’s back. “Then prove it.”  
  
Castiel holds Dean’s intense green gaze because there’s no way in hell he’s backing down from this challenge. He leans in closer to Dean, lowering his voice as well with the hopes it has the same effect. “Fine.”  
  
He picks up the nearly full glass of beer and brings it to his lips, tilting it back and chugging the whole thing right then and there, slamming it down on the bar when he’s done.  
  
The effects are immediate on him, a dizziness settling in his head and all he can do is smile triumphantly at Dean.  
  
Dean raises his eyebrows, seeming impressed while the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Not bad, Novak.” He turns and flags down the bartender and orders ten shots.  
  
Castiel’s eyes widen. He’s fairly certain ten shots are way too much for anyone to handle. “Dean, I was not implying we have a drinking competition.”  
  
Dean chuckles, pushing half of the shots towards him. “No, we’re sharing them.”  
  
Castiel looks doubtfully at the five, perfectly filled glasses in front of him, the clear liquid deceiving. It seems so harmless, but it’s the cause of so many regrets and the thing people turn to numb their pain. To numb everything, really.  
  
The voice in the back of Castiel’s head is warning him of the dangerous road ahead- to walk out now while he still can. He may have slipped up a little bit, but there’s still time to correct his mistake.  
  
Dean must see the conflict in his eyes because he sets a hand reassuringly on Castiel’s shoulder. “Listen man, you don’t have to drink them if you don’t want to. I may have gotten a little carried away with ordering ten-“ he chuckles, shaking his head, “but I can bring these to the guys. They’re dying for a hangover tomorrow anyway.”  
  
Castiel glances at Dean’s hand before looking into his eyes, which are actually sincere. Castiel instantly silences the protesting voice in his head.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
He picks up one of the shot glasses, smiling challengingly at Dean. “Maybe you’re the scared one here.”  
  
Dean grins, dropping his hand and picking up a glass. They both raise the glass and slam it on the bar before knocking it back.  
  
Castiel sucks in a breath as the tequila burns his throat, the fumes drifting up into his nose and he nearly chokes on them but holds it in. It seems the two shots he already had weren’t enough to prep him for his third.  
  
That’s when everything starts blurring together, Castiel’s mind hazy from the alcohol and cheeks hurting from smiling so much. With each shot, he finds the space between him and Dean getting smaller and smaller but there’s still the tiniest gap between them that’s driving Castiel insane. He just wants to push Dean back onto a barstool and climb in his lap and press their bodies together, like how that dancer was doing to Dean earlier.  
  
As drunk as he is though, he doesn’t do that. If he lets himself, there’ll be no stopping him. He will take as much as Dean gives him and savor every second. And it’s so, so tempting. So easy to lean forward and give in, just eliminate those last few inches and-  
  
Thankfully, Castiel doesn’t have to suffer from the temptation too much longer because after their fifth and final shot, the bachelor party finds them at the bar, Sam flat out drunk. What happened while he and Dean were at the bar?  
  
“There you guys are! Come on, I get to go on the main stage!”  
  
Dean laughs. “Sammy, what you mean to say is you get to _fall off_ the main stage.”  
  
Sam sticks his tongue out before getting dragged away by his friends, some of them having found attractive women to wrap their arms around.  
  
Dean chuckles, watching his brother go before taking Castiel’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”  
  
Castiel lets Dean lead him through the thick of the dance floor to the front of the stage, holding tight to Dean’s hand because it’s the only thing keeping him from stumbling over his feet and falling to the ground.  
  
The DJ lowers the music so that there’s just a steady bass thumping through the stereo system and gives an introduction to Sam, who is clumsily climbing the stairs.  
  
“As per tradition, we pay tribute to the wonderful gift of love through the form of marriage,” The DJ announces over the music and Castiel is too drunk to see the irony in the statement, but watches on with the biggest grin on his face.  
  
“So, ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome and congratulations to our handsome soon to be groom, Sam!” she says enthusiastically into the microphone and the crowd breaks into cheers and hollers, Sam waving and blowing sloppy kisses to the crowd as if he was just announced the new Miss. America.  
  
“Well Sam, you’ve seen how our girls dance. Think you can show us a move or two?” the DJ challenges and Sam waves her off as if it was the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard. He steps up to one of the poles and grips it with two hands before spinning himself clumsily around, trying pull off a smoldering, seductive expression. And at one point, he lifts up his shirt a little and the crowd goes wild with cat-calls and whoops.  
  
The DJ chuckles, fanning herself. “Damn, you’re fiancée is one lucky girl! You know, we _are_ looking for more male dancers.”  
  
Sam laughs, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I’m going to be a lawyer.” The crowd ‘aww’s’ and Sam shrugs.  
  
The DJ pouts playfully. “That’s too bad. You have so much potential! But I hope you’re not holding out on your girl with moves like that. Let’s give him a round of applause guys! Wasn’t he fantastic?”  
  
Sam gives a dramatic bow as the crowd goes crazy, making room as he jumps off the front of the stage, Dean immediately there to steady him before he face plants into the ground.  
  
“Let’s keep this party rolling!” the DJ shouts as she turns the music back up and everyone resumes their dancing, the women on the stage starting their routines once more.  
  
Dean wraps his arm tight around Sam’s neck and throws a fist in the air. “My brother’s getting married!”  
  
Castiel claps and hollers with the rest of the guys and Sam shakes Dean’s arm off. “So are you, man! We both are!” And then Brady and a few others that aren’t accompanied by women are dragging Sam away for more shots, as if he needs more alcohol.  
  
“Come on, dude! Let’s put those college nights to shame!” Brady crows.  
  
Sam thrusts a determined fist in the air but calls over his shoulder at Dean as he’s being dragged away. “Dance with your man, Dean! Show him your moves!”  
  
Dean smirks and turns to Castiel, who is swaying on his feet. “You have moves?” he asks, not even confident the question came out audibly.  
  
Dean snorts, holding out his hand. “Would you like to find out?”  
  
Castiel grins and takes it without hesitation. Dean pulls him in, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing their bodies together before they start moving with the beat.  
  
Castiel can’t help but grind his body into Dean’s because _damn_ , Dean feels so good and the way Dean holds him close and the way he’s looking at him with those intense green eyes, those perfect lips parted, just waiting to be-  
  
No! Shit, what is he doing?  
  
There’s still time to turn back. There’s still time. He can still salvage this evening free of regrets in the morning. He just needs to summon some sobriety and he can drag himself from the mess he put himself in.  
  
He pulls himself out of Dean’s grasp and cuts his way through the crowd, stumbling and getting pushed by the constantly moving bodies until he reaches the edge of the dance floor and collapses against the nearest wall, dizzy and lightheaded.  
  
He pants, half from trying to fight his way through the crowd and half from dancing with Dean. Dammit, he’s losing control that he can’t afford to lose. He just can’t.  
  
“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” he mutters to himself, burying his face in the forearm that’s bracing him against the wall.  
  
“Cas? Are you okay?” Dean’s voice sounds behind him.  
  
Castiel spins around, if a little too quickly and Dean has to steady him, to which Castiel breaks out in hysterical laughter. Dean scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. “Cas?”  
  
Castiel meets his gaze and he knows he’s too weak. He can run away all he wants but he knows he can’t run forever. His alcohol dazed mind is too weak to fight it anymore. All those denials, those excuses, turning his head the other way. He just can’t do it anymore. That spark clearly doesn’t want to be extinguished, so why not let it ignite and flourish?  
  
He surges forward and presses their lips together, Dean not even hesitating to kiss him back.  
  
Dean backs him up against the wall, his hands finding Castiel’s and raising them to either side of his head, pinning him in place and damn, does it feel good. Those strong hands holding him down, a weird sense of security washing over him and forcing him to just stop and embrace what’s happening. Forcing him to indulge in his desires.  
  
Castiel feels like he’s getting even drunker off Dean’s kisses, his mind spinning more than it was when he took the shots. When Dean pulls back, he’s left chasing his lips but doesn’t get far as he’s still being held to the wall.  
  
Dean grins stupidly at him. “What was that for?”  
  
Castiel smirks. “We’re supposed to be engaged, aren’t we? Just upping my game.”  
  
Dean licks his lips and Castiel wants more than anything to capture them again and finally discover the taste of his tongue. “I think that’s the first good idea you’ve had.”  
  
“Just shut up and kiss me,” Castiel growls.  
  
The corner of Dean’s mouth lifts in a crooked smile and he complies, closing the space between them again. Castiel parts his mouth and meets Dean’s tongue with his own, swallowing the moan that emanates from him. Dean’s hands gradually slide down from his wrists and explore the rest of his body.  
  
Castiel can’t help but groan at his touch. He didn’t realize just how much he craved this- how much he craved _Dean_. And he while he’s savoring every caress and stroke from Dean’s fingers, he knows what his demanding, drunken brain wants more. He needs control of the situation.  
  
He spins them around so their positions are reversed, Dean gasping softly at the sudden switch but grins. “Not bad.”  
  
A smile pulls at the corner of Castiel’s mouth and he lowers his voice, sliding a hand down Dean’s chest and feeling the strong muscles underneath the fabric. “I can show you more, if you would like.”  
  
Dean swallows, eyes widening and Castiel feels his body quivering under his fingers as Dean breathes out his response.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Castiel presses his body close, sliding his leg between Dean’s and pressing ever so softly against his pelvis with his thigh, feeling the effect of their heated kisses through Dean’s pants. Dean groans and throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “ _Fuck._ ”  
  
Castiel takes advantage of Dean’s exposed neck and presses hungry kisses along his throat, tongue leaving a glistening trail.  
  
“I want you, Dean,” he murmurs against the skin and realizes this is more of a confession to himself than to Dean. He’s said it out loud, and there’s no way to take it back. He’s finally letting go. He’s not just jumping off the edge, he’s soaring.  
  
He’s not scared. Not one bit.  
  
Dean looks back down to meet Castiel’s gaze, pupils dilated into large black disks with only a hint of green visible around the edges. “Then take me.”  
  
Castiel’s about to dive in again and make good on Dean’s request until he feels a tap on his shoulder and he almost snaps at whoever dares interrupt them right now, but stops when he sees the familiar face. It’s Brady.  
  
“Hey guys, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I may have given Mr. Respectable Lawyer over there too many shots. The other guys are too trashed to even know what’s going on. Dean?” Castiel can barely comprehend what he’s saying. He’s not sure if Brady is past the point of speaking clearly or it’s him who’s the one past understanding too many words strung together at once.  
  
Dean nods, moving out from under Castiel, looking like he barely processed Brady’s words himself. “Yeah sure man, I’ll be right over. Just make sure he doesn’t hurl. Once he starts, it’s endless.”  
  
Brady chuckles. “Oh believe me, I know.” He disappears- well, stumbles- into the crowd, Castiel watching him go and feeling beyond irritated that their time was cut short. Just when he finally gave in too. Why couldn’t they have just five more minutes?  
  
Maybe this is the universe's way of telling him this is all wrong…  
  
“Hey,” Dean turns his face towards him so that their eyes meet. “We’re not finished.”  
  
Castiel nods, hoping he means it and Dean presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Help me round up everyone?”  
  
“Sure.” Castiel leaves out that he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over the air around him.  
  
Dean takes him by the hand and leads him through the crowd, helping with any tripping that may have occurred. As much as Dean’s drunk, he seems to be coping a lot better than everyone else. Castiel vaguely wonders if that should concern him- that maybe Dean isn’t a stranger to alcohol.  
  
They get to work gathering the guys, needing to make several trips to help everyone to limo. As drunk as Castiel is, he’s counting himself lucky compared to Sam and the rest of the guys. They’re absolutely trashed. Castiel suspects half of them think they’re back in college again as they keep going on about some important paper due in the morning.  
  
If he had seven shots and chugged nearly a pint of beer, what the hell did they all drink?  
  
But eventually, everyone is safely loaded into the car and they set off for home, Sam splayed all over Dean and going on and on about how “this was such a fun night, Dean” and “you’re the best big brother _and_ you’re my favorite big brother!” to which Dean responds, “I’m your only big brother, Sam” and Sam laughs like it’s the most hilarious thing he’s ever heard.  
  
When they get back to the house, it’s even more of a chore to get everyone inside now that over half of them passed out, Brady included- which is good because it’s gotta be past two in the morning at this point and they don’t need the cops called on them for disturbing the peace. Castiel feels like he’s next though, feet dragging and he practically drops the guy he’s holding up.  
  
“Hey Cas, I just need to take Sam to his room. I’ll be right there in a minute,” Dean tells him and Castiel doesn’t object.  
  
When he gets into the room, he collapses on the bed and covers his face with his hands. His mind is so fuzzy and jumbled right now. Since he’s had time to slow down and think about what they just did, he’s feeling doubtful. The ride home was deafeningly silent compared to the club music and constantly thumping bass in Castiel’s ears, leaving his sloppy thoughts to fill the space. Thoughts that became just sober enough to make him question what exactly happened at that club.  
  
There was a small, familiar voice that whispered for him to correct his wrongdoings the whole way home. But… he craves Dean. Still, after the half hour that’s passed from having Dean under his hands to sitting on the bed in his twilight state of mind, he just wants Dean more than anything he’s craved before.  
  
He’s never felt so conflicted.  
  
Minutes later, he hears the door close and he drops his hands to stare at Dean.  
  
“Hey, you feeling okay? You’re not going to hurl, are you?”  
  
Castiel chuckles and sits up, swaying at the rush in his head. “I’m great.”  
  
Dean sits next to him on the bed. “Do you already regret it?”  
  
Castiel furrows his eyebrows. Does he? Were those seeds of doubt actually pieces of regret? But one look at Dean’s messy hair, still damp with sweat, ruffled clothes and swollen lips tells Castiel his answer.  
  
“No.”  
  
Dean doesn’t say anything more, leaning forward and kissing him. And it’s as if Castiel’s struck by lightning, an energy surging through him that he can’t control. He cups his hand around the back of Dean’s head, fingers tangling in his hair, and pulls him closer, needing to eliminate any and all space between them.  
  
The energy quickly turns into frustration. He’s so frustrated it’s overwhelming. He’s always been able to control himself, to show restraint and remain focused on the task at hand. He’s frustrated that he has no desire to stop. He has no desire to pull away and tell Dean this is all a mistake- that he will regret it tomorrow even if he doesn’t right now. He’s frustrated because he can’t fucking stop himself.  
  
That small voice questions whether he can't or he won't. But he doesn't dare to let his chaotic mind take on that soul searching question.  
  
“Do you still want me?” Dean whispers roughly against his lips.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Dean growls. “Then what are you waiting for?”  
  
And by nature of their relationship, Castiel can’t stand Dean giving him orders, so he takes matters into his own hands. He pushes Dean backwards on the bed and straddles him, leaning down to reconnect their lips. Dean’s arms wrap around Castiel, feeling their way up and down his back and Castiel moans. His touch sends shivers down his spine and he feels like he might melt right then and there.  
  
Of course Dean would find his most sensitive spot- the one that can reduce him to a withering mess simply because of the emotional claim that part of his body has on him, even if Dean doesn’t know this.  
  
Castiel sits up so he can shove Dean’s jacket off and pull his shirt over his head. Dean’s hands move to undo Castiel’s buttons, fingers struggling to accomplish the task but he manages, sliding the blazer and shirt off his shoulders. Castiel realizes too late that he’s made a mistake and his hazy mind races to correct it, looking for any way to distract Dean.  
  
Dean’s eyes rake down his body and seem to pause on his biceps. Castiel rushes in with another kiss as his hands fumble with the clasp on his pants, but he manages to get it undone along with the zipper. Perhaps there’s a chance his distraction worked.  
  
He scoots off Dean, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses and small nips down his chest as he yanks off his pants, Dean gasping and inhaling sharply with each touch.  
  
He lets his eyes rest on the outline of Dean’s cock under his boxers before bringing himself back up to Dean, tracing his tongue over his parted lips as he presses his thigh against Dean’s hard cock.  
  
“Cas…” Dean moans, moving his hips to grind himself against Castiel and he chuckles.  
  
“You’re not the one who makes the demands.”  
  
“We’ll see.”  
  
Castiel smirks and trails his fingers down to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off and tossing them carelessly over his shoulder.  
  
He traces a fingertip down Dean’s cock before leaning down and running his tongue along the underside, reveling in the sound of Dean’s hitched breathing. He swirls his tongue around the head, the saltiness of pre-come exploding over his tongue before taking Dean into his mouth.  
  
Dean gasps, fingers working their way into Castiel’s hair and he hums at the contact, which only makes Dean tighten his grip. Castiel works his mouth up and down Dean’s shaft, using one of his hands to stroke the base of his cock in time with his mouth. Dean’s just a moaning mess beneath him. It’s the best sound Castiel’s ever heard.  
  
He feels Dean remove one of his hands from his hair to trail along his bicep and Castiel immediately pulls back out of Dean’s reach and before he can be questioned, Castiel loops an arm around Dean’s waist and flips him over onto his stomach.  
  
“Cas? What are you-“ he pants out but is cut off with a grunt as Castiel yanks his hips up so his ass is sticking up in the air, head still laying against the bed.  
  
Castiel revels the sight of Dean on his knees, face pressed into the pillows and ass on display for him to admire. He rubs his hands gently across Dean’s lower back and down to his ass.  
  
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing light kisses to the skin.  
  
“Do it already,” Dean growls, clearly not keen on going slow.  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes and spreads his cheeks enough for his tongue to tease the tight ring of muscle, Dean groaning at even the lightest touch.  
  
“ _Fuck._ ”  
  
Castiel doesn’t dare stop. He gives quick, light flicks against Dean’s hole, figuring a little teasing is in order before he really has his way with Dean. And he’d by lying if he wasn’t enjoying hearing Dean’s soft gasps and whimpers- completely driving Dean insane.  
  
“C-Cas-“ Dean stammers out and he chuckles, deciding Dean’s ready for him to step it up.  
  
He begins licking long, slow stripes across Dean’s entrance, making sure no inch of his ass goes untouched by his tongue. He presses down with each stroke, slowly prodding his way inside while Dean is a trembling mess, body shaking with every little lap of Castiel’s tongue and push against his rim. And when his tongue finally pushes into his tight entrance, Dean’s moans are glorious, making Castiel ache from being so hard. Castiel moves his tongue in and out slowly at first, trying to work him open.  
  
“Fuck- Cas. That feels so _fucking_ good,” Dean’s panting into the blanket. Castiel pulls away and leans forward to offer Dean two of his fingers.  
  
“Suck,” he commands and Dean doesn’t hesitate to obey, eagerly moving to lap his tongue over his proffered fingers before taking them into his mouth. He sucks and licks them thoroughly, eyes locked on Castiel the entire time, and once he’s satisfied, Castiel pulls them out of Dean’s mouth, who lets out a groan of disappointment. He returns his attention back to Dean’s exposed hole, wishing he could use more than his fingers and tongue, but he’s not about to spoil the moment by asking if Dean has lube and condoms somewhere. Why would he anyway?  
  
He gives Dean’s entrance one more sloppy lick and brings one finger to it, prodding his way in slowly. He watches Dean’s face for any signs of discomfort, but Dean is just moaning, fingers fisting the sheets. Once he pushes his finger all the way inside, he starts to move it in and out slowly.  
  
“You feel so good,” Castiel whispers, wanting more than anything to just take Dean here and now.  
  
“More. I want more,” Dean pants, watching Castiel hungrily with lust blown eyes.  
  
Castiel grins and complies, feeling that Dean has adjusted adequately enough to take a second. He nudges in his middle finger, Dean groaning loudly the deeper Castiel’s fingers sink inside him.  
  
“Holy shit, Cas, your fingers feel so fucking good.”  
  
Castiel hums. “You take my fingers so beautifully. Dean. So beautiful.”  
  
Dean starts to rock his hips, fucking himself onto Castiel’s fingers and a moan escapes his throat at the sight. “Fuck. Show me how much you like it, Dean.” Dean starts moving faster and Castiel meets Dean’s thrusts with his own, and he knows when he brushes Dean’s prostate when he suddenly shouts Castiel’s name saturated with pleasure. Fuck, this is all too much. He just wants bury his own aching cock in Dean and feel the amazing sensations his tongue and fingers have felt. He just wants to be close to Dean, closer than he'd ever thought he could be. But dammit, he can't.  
  
Castiel pulls out his fingers and Dean whimpers. “Cas-“  
  
“You’re going to come on my tongue,” he growls, using both hands to spread Dean’s cheeks, briefly taking in the sight of his wet, worked open hole and dives in, tongue filling the space his fingers left.  
  
“Cas! Fuck!” Dean gasps breathlessly. Castiel pauses for a second to spit into his hand and reach underneath to take a hold of Dean’s cock, which is still a little slick with his spit and precome from earlier, and begins stroking it in time with his tongue fucking and sloppy kisses.  
  
Dean’s moans become more and more urgent and Castiel knows he’s close. “Are you going to come for me, Dean?” he asks, pulling away slightly to admire his work on Dean’s ass.  
  
“Yes! Don’t fucking stop you dick!” Dean snaps and Castiel snickers before licking into him again, one hand rubbing over Dean’s ass while the other is still rhythmically stroking his cock.  
  
“Cas, I-I’m gonna-“ he chokes out before his orgasm cuts him off and he’s moaning loudly into the blankets, coming into Cas’ hand. Dean stays still for a moment, trying to regain his breath and Castiel leans forward, flicking his tongue playfully across Dean’s hole and he flinches away from the touch.  
  
“N-no, are you trying to kill me?” Dean says breathlessly, legs collapsing under him.  
  
Castiel smirks, pulling his hand out from under Dean where he landed on it, not even caring that there’s still come smeared on it. “I take it you enjoyed it.”  
  
Dean glances back at Cas and smiles. “Maybe a little. But you’re next.”  
  
Castiel grins but then the fuzziness in his head reminds him of how intoxicated he actually is. He didn’t realize how close he is to passing out- and he’s not about to embarrass himself in front of Dean. Watching Dean writhe and moan beneath him was almost too much because now black spots are dancing in his vision.  
  
“I don’t think I’ll be awake long enough,” he admits, rubbing his eyes in a lame attempt to clear them. Shit, this could be his only chance. Maybe he should just force himself to try and-  
  
His thoughts are silenced when Dean laughs and pulls Castiel down next to him. “Can I tell ya a secret, Cas?”  
  
He snorts, staring into Dean’s eyes, which are glazed over in some sort of alcohol-post orgasm induced haze. “Sure.”  
  
Dean leans in close and whispers. “I think we had too much to drink.”  
  
For whatever reason, this cracks Castiel up and when he manages to catch his breath, he whispers back, “Can I tell you a secret now?”  
  
Dean nods, grinning stupidly at him.  
  
“I think I agree with you.”  
  
Dean laughs again, throwing an arm over Castiel’s waist and pulling them closer. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.”  
  
He hums in agreement. “Yeah, it really will.”  
  
The darkness spreads across his vision and he’s fighting hard to stay awake because he doesn’t want tonight to end. He doesn’t want to go to sleep. He knows when he wakes up, everything will be different. The regret will come and rational thoughts will return once more. He just wants to stay like this- wrapped up in Dean and laughing like idiots over nothing with hardly a care at all.  
  
But as much as he fights it, he can’t any longer. The darkness swallows him up and the last thing he hears is “Night, Cas” before he’s plunged into a dreamless sleep with the world spinning out of control around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... there ya go! Hope you liked it ^.^  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To explain the Minor Character Death tag that's been added- it's no one that's been present in the story so far. It is background information and I wasn't sure if I needed to tag it or not, so I did to be on the safe side. But yeah, the plot thickens.... heh

The persistent sound of knocking gradually invades Dean’s ears along with a distant voice calling to someone. What an annoying dream. The knocking is doing no favors for his headache that’s settled in his head. He’s actually worried to wake up because if he feels his head hurting through a dream, it’s going to be pure hell in the conscious world.  
  
The voice calls again, but this time it’s clear- _Dean_. It’s calling to _him_. It’s then he makes the connection that the knocking is coming from the other side of his door and it must be someone trying to wake them up. But he’s not even close to being ready to get up.  
  
He groans. “Go away.”  
  
The voice huffs. “Dean, get your ass up and start getting ready. And if you don’t, I’ll be back with a bucket of ice and water and it’s not going to be pretty.” He registers the voice belonging to Jess and pulls the blankets over his head.  
  
“Five more minutes.”  
  
“You said that ten minutes ago. Come on, Cas finally got up- you can too.”  
  
That wakes him up. He rolls over to see that he is indeed alone in the bed- in the whole room. He can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. He scrubs a hand down his face, shoving the thought away before he can decide which one it is. “Okay okay fine. I’m getting up.”  
  
Jess’ light footsteps fade away as she trots back downstairs and he sits up, head pounding worse than when he was in that weird state between sleep and consciousness. Although, it’s not as bad as he anticipated it to be. Some coffee and Advil should do him good.  
  
He gets out of bed and shuffles around for some pants, realizing he’s naked. Why is he…?  
  
Oh yeah.  
  
He’s just pulling on his boxers and trying to sort through what he remembers when Cas enters the room, hair dripping from his apparent shower and he’s not looking too hot. The sight of him makes Dean’s meandering thoughts pause.  
  
Call it second nature, but Dean can’t help but automatically smirk at him. “You look terrible.”  
  
Castiel’s distracted gaze meets his and then he rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”  
  
Dean shuffles past him, chuckling to himself, and heads to the bathroom before any awkwardness can materialize between them. He begins picking through his thoughts again as he turns on the shower, waiting for it to warmup this time, and steps inside. He runs a hand through his hair, sighing at the effect the warm water has on his tired body.  
  
He closes his eyes and when he does, hazy snippets of last night flash behind his eyelids. His memory is a bit foggy on everything that happened, but he remembers the gist of it all. There’s absolutely no ambiguity about what happened before he passed out for the night.  
  
Him and Cas…  
  
He feels himself getting turned on just from the thought. The last clear, non-alcohol induced memory he has is Cas chugging a beer to prove he wasn’t scared. After that, it’s a blur of shots and touching and kissing. And did Sam give a strip tease on the stage somewhere in between?  
  
He may not be able to say how exactly they went from taking shots at the bar to him being pinned against the wall in a flurry of touching and kissing, but he remembers one thing for sure- Cas eating him out like he’s never been eaten out before. And fuck, was it the most amazing thing he’s ever experienced. He’s considering going to church simply to thank whatever deity allowed him to remember that moment in particular.  
  
He would’ve kicked himself if he did all that with Cas and couldn’t remember a damn thing. He would’ve been disappointed to know that Cas kissed him, touched him, tasted him but not remember how hot and needy those kisses were against his, the strong and feather like way Cas used his hands, and especially how Cas’ tongue did wonders on his body – whether it was the tip trailing the underside of his cock or the long, sensual caresses against his ass.  
  
The only two questions that remain are whether Cas remembers or not and if so, where’s his head at?  
  
Dean’s only slightly worried he may have blurted something he would regret, but it’s doubtful. He’s not the type of drunk to overshare.  
  
He’s massaging body wash into his skin- which still has glitter on it from that lap dance- and he can’t stop picturing Cas from last night, chest bared with a strongly built frame. The guy definitely works out. And those arms… his arms were something else. Although… there was something strange on them, but he’s not even sure if he saw it right.  
  
When him and Cas were clumsily undressing each other, he noticed something on Cas’ biceps. It was dark and he couldn’t make out exactly what it was since it seems like it was only a small portion of something else. Plus there was the whole matter of being intoxicated and therefore being unable to see straight in the first place. But he’s positive something was there.  
  
Was it a tattoo? No, it couldn’t be- Cas got it removed a while ago. Maybe they’re scars of some sort?  
  
Dean knows he shouldn’t ask, but he’s so damn curious. Maybe he can play the whole ‘we need to get to know each other for the interview’ card. That’s believable.  
  
Or maybe he shouldn’t. Because he’s not sure how Cas is feeling after last night. What they did went way beyond what their arrangement encompassed. Sure, neither of them explicitly said sex and fooling around was off the table, but it was implied.  
  
Then again… if it was just for fun, where’s the harm in that? Two people who’ve found themselves in a shitty situation are allowed to make the best of it, right?  
  
Dean decides to go with that excuse for their actions and turns off the water, stepping outside and wrapping a towel around his waist. He brushes his teeth before returning to the bedroom where Cas is sitting on the bed, the pillows and blankets fixed into place as if no one ever slept in it. Or did other choice activities…  
  
Dean snorts as Castiel’s face reddens when he looks up at him before swiftly averting his eyes.  
  
“Seriously? You’re embarrassed to look at me half naked after last night?” He tries not to stare expectantly at him for the answer. He’s desperate to find out how much Cas remembers.  
  
Castiel scowls but then returns his face to the stone expression he was wearing before, meeting Dean’s gaze again. “I actually wanted to discuss that with you.” Well, sounds like he at least remembers they did stuff.  
  
Dean shrugs nonchalantly and crosses the room to dig out some clean clothes. “Sure. Just talk while I get dressed. Don’t be scared to sneak a peek if you want.”  
  
Castiel coughs. “Um… well, I think we can both agree we got a bit carried away last night.”  
  
Dean purses his lips and nods eventually. “Sure, we can agree on that.”  
  
“But we have to remain focused. We can’t afford to… to make this situation more complicated than it already is.”  
  
Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I guess sex does make everything more complicated.”  
  
Castiel nods slowly. “Then you can see why it should never happen again.”  
  
Dean ponders this, trying to conceal the conflict inside him. Okay, maybe he was lying to himself earlier when he decided it was harmless if it was purely for fun. Because with whatever Dean’s been feeling lately, it wasn’t just for fun. There _were_ feelings… and it doesn’t matter how weak or confusing they are, they’re feelings nonetheless. He refuses to let Cas catch him slipping because how fucking embarrassing is that? But a small part of him wonders…  
  
“So you’re saying you regret what we did.”  
  
Castiel furrows his brow. “You don’t?”  
  
The words stab into Dean and he refrains from cringing. Ouch. It sounds like the old Castiel is making a comeback. He’s gotta turn this around somehow.  
  
He stifles the sting of Castiel’s words and shrugs. “If I regretted it, then it would mean I did something regretful. I thought we were just having a little fun. Unless, of course, it meant more to you?”  
  
His response tells Dean he has the upper hand now, Castiel becoming flustered and fidgety. “No, of course not!”  
  
Dean laughs, pulling on one of his flannels over his t-shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.”  
  
Castiel stands up stiffly. “Good. I’m glad we have that settled.”  
  
Dean begins gathering his clothes and neatly folding them in his suitcase when a thought occurs to him. “Cas?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
He pauses, feeling stupid for wanting to say it, but he needs to. “Don’t pull that shit you did yesterday. No closing off, no ignoring me. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?”  
  
“Right.”  
  
Dean nods once, some relief calming that particular worry, and he goes back to packing. He expects to hear the door signal that Cas is gone, but he still feels Cas’ eyes on him- watching. He glances up to meet the distracted blue gaze. Why is he still here? “So, uh, we’re good?”  
  
Castiel blinks, his gaze focusing back on Dean- even though he’d been staring- and he snaps out of whatever he was deep in thought about. “Oh, yes.”  
  
Dean chuckles. “So you just like watching me fold clothes?”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “I didn’t take you for the neat type.”  
  
He acts mock offended. “I’ll have you know I’m the one who always cleaned the house when I lived here. I can’t stand a messy environment.” When the words leave his mouth, he realizes the irony in the statement. His whole life is just one big mess right now- not even one he can clean.  
  
Castiel nods, gathering his bags and leaves without another word. Dean watches him go out of the corner of his eye and sighs once he’s alone, glad to drop the façade.  
  
What is happening to him?  
  


*****

  
Castiel sips at his coffee, wishing it would act faster in curing his hangover. Despite his pounding head and slight nausea, he’s counting himself lucky. The guys that left this morning looked absolutely miserable. They’ll probably be spending the whole day sleeping last night off. Unfortunately, him, Dean and Sam don’t get that pleasure. Today is supposed to be wedding work all day with the rehearsal dinner tonight. Perfect.

Castiel can’t complain too much though. He’s not the one getting married tomorrow. He can’t imagine how Sam must be feeling; with so much to do and so much to think about, this is going to be a long day for him. And it showed this morning. The only thing that was keeping Sam from falling over and going back to sleep was Jess.

It did make Castiel feel better watching Jess scold Dean though.

_“Dean, I wanted him to have fun, but I didn’t mean_ that _much fun.”_

_“Hey, don’t blame me! Blame your pal Brady. He’s the one who wanted to relive college.”_

Then Jess groaned. _“Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Now go shove your hungover brother in the car while I finish packing the car.”_

At least Castiel was able to get into the car by himself. Perhaps the two hour drive to the venue will be enough time for him to recover some. And hopefully for Sam as well. He has Jess there to take care of him, so at least Sam has that going for him.

As hopeful that he is about getting some rest for the next couple of hours, Castiel’s quickly losing faith in that idea given every time Dean slams on the brakes it makes him want to vomit. And heaven forbid he throws up in Dean’s baby. Dean would toss him out on his ass in a heartbeat.

This is going to be a long car ride.

“Stop braking so fucking hard,” he moans, rubbing his eyes and waiting for the wave of nausea to pass.

“I’m not. You’re just too hung over and sensitive,” Dean grumbles, lifting his thermos of coffee to his lips and taking a drink.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” he mutters under his breath.

“You’re blaming your current state on me?”

Castiel stares at him incredulously. “Is that a serious question?”

Dean snorts. “I am not responsible for your drinking choices.”

This provokes a dry laugh from him. “Seriously? Mr. Let Me Buy Ten Shots?”

“Hey, I didn’t force you to drink them. I offered to take them to the guys.”

Castiel wants to argue but Dean’s right. If there’s anything Dean did last night, it wasn’t pressure him into doing something he was uncomfortable with. He could’ve easily said no and Dean wouldn’t have pushed him any further. But no- it was himself who selfishly continued their interactions.

And because Castiel can’t stand to see Dean so smug over being right, he just stares out the window while sipping at his coffee.

He still hears Dean snicker under his breath anyway. “So do you do that often?”

Castiel glances at him, confused at what exactly he’s referring to. “What?”

“Party like that.”

Castiel frowns, looking back out the window. “Not exactly.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve never had crazy nights like that before?”

“Crazy nights? Yes. Like last night? No.”

That makes Dean laugh. “There’s different kinds of crazy?”

He shrugs. “Well yes, I suppose.”

“Like what? Educate me.”

Castiel scoffs, glancing to him. “I don’t know, Dean. Like there’s a good crazy and then there’s bad crazy. And sometimes… just crazy crazy, I guess.”

Dean smiles mischievously at him, an amused glint to his green eyes. “Which crazy was I?”

Castiel hesitates before answering. His first instinct is to say ‘bad crazy’ but then again, he didn’t hate last night. He thoroughly enjoyed himself, and _that’s_ what he hates. He shouldn’t be feeling these things for Dean, enjoying intimate situations and craving more.

That’s exactly what happened when he woke up next to Dean. Jess had called through the door announcing they had to be out the door within the next hour and before he could even move- hangover aside- he just stared at Dean. And dammit, he’s never been so swept up in one individual before.

His fingers ached to run themselves through Dean’s spiky, tousled hair like they did just hours before. His lips longed to feel Dean’s freckled skin once again, whether it be laying feather kisses against his cheeks or fitting themselves against Dean’s soft, full ones.

But he can’t have what he body wants, so he laid there and took in Dean’s long lashes, the steady rise and fall of his chest, his arms still hugging Castiel around the waist the way they did before it was lights out for both of them. He stayed like that, watching Dean for a couple minutes that went by way too fast before regretfully pulling himself from those safe and secure arms.

He didn’t have the heart to wake such a beautiful sight and taint the peaceful moment. It would certainly cease to be good and peaceful when Dean woke and remembered everything that happened. It would awkward as hell and… what if Dean was angry with him? He was the one who started the series of events that unfolded last night after all.

It was during his shower that he thought out a plan for how to deal with the situation- because that’s what he does. He thinks out solutions to unforeseen setbacks and dilemmas. He would not lead on to how effected he is by Dean. He would address the situation head on so they are not dancing awkwardly around topic the rest of the day. He would beat Dean to it all because at least he would be in control of the situation then. When he’s in control, he won’t hurt. At least not as much.

And he did beat Dean to it. He had composure, delivered each word like a well-practiced speech, and Dean still caught him off guard multiple times. First, it was him walking in with only a towel, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. Then it was him telling Castiel that he had no regrets when he expected the opposite. But he didn’t have regrets because it was meaningless sex- not because there were deeper feelings. That’s where he really got Castiel.

And to top it off, Castiel stood there like an idiot watching him pack because it was just one more example of how Dean is nothing like how Castiel perceived him to be. That small, stupid act of folding clothes made his heart ache because while he gets the opportunity to marry Dean and call him his husband, he doesn’t get the privilege of being loved by Dean, to have Dean’s heart exclusively to himself.

Yes, Dean _is_ a good crazy. But he shouldn’t be. That in itself is what makes Dean the bad type of crazy.

Castiel’s head is spinning as the warring thoughts in his mind collide, making his hangover feel a hundred times worse. “Um…”

Thankfully, before he can come up with a bullshit excuse, Dean’s phone rings.

He doesn’t even care to hear who it is and what’s going on. He shrugs out of his trench coat and folds it up, placing it between his head and the window to use as a pillow and shuts his eyes, praying he wakes up feeling somewhat better.

*****

  
Castiel is transfixed on the heavy, mahogany doors in front of him- the ones with the intricate designs carved into the wood. He could probably draw them from memory by now because he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at them, studying every little detail and imagining the work it must’ve taken to carve something so exquisite, something so beautiful.

It’s a shame hardly anyone pays attention to them though. Of all the people that walk through these doors, no one is stopping to admire their elegance. Perhaps it’s because they’re too distracted to care much about anything else, or maybe they physically can’t because their vision is blurred by tears or bombarded with fingers wiping away wetness.

Castiel’s eyes might be glassy too if he wasn’t trying so damn hard to suppress everything, to hope that when he finally walks through these magnificent doors, there will be something else waiting for him on the other side. Something good.

But there’s not. And the sooner he accepts that, the better it will be.

Right?

He takes a deep, shaky breath and sets his hands against one of the doors, vaguely feeling the carvings beneath his fingertips, and pushes it open. He feels every pair of eyes- roughly thirty- watch him as he strides into the room. Perhaps if he walked with confidence, he won’t get as many looks of pity.

However, he can’t hold up the façade very long because then his eyes fall on the dark wooded coffin. He tries to swallow the lump that chokes him, the one that means tears are soon to come, but he can’t. It refuses to be suppressed.

When he reaches the coffin and looks down into the casket, he lets out his first breath since entering the room. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut. For some reason, he thought that it would be easier. Maybe the couple days between the accident and the funeral would be enough time to get over the initial shock of it all.

But no. It won’t ever be easier seeing a brother dead.

Twenty two. Barely had begun to live his life.

“Michael…” he trails off, the name getting stuck in his throat. What is there to say anyway? That he’s sorry? That it’s so unfair he was taken away? That is should’ve been him? There’s nothing to say. And there’s nothing that will fill the void that’s become Castiel’s soul.

Michael was the only one he had. He was the only there for him. And now he’s alone. Completely and utterly.

So instead of trying to find words that will never do himself or Michael any good, he brushes his brother’s hand only to flinch away on contact. It’s just not the same knowing there’s no life there.

“This isn’t good bye, brother. I know wherever you are, you’ll be with me.”

Castiel casts one last glance down at Michael before letting the next person- whoever they are because at this point, he doesn’t care who it is- see him.

He’s staring out the window, wishing to be anywhere but here when a familiar voice greets him. “There’s my little bro!”

Castiel looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes at Gabriel. “What do you want.”

Gabriel looks mildly offended as he takes a sip of the drink in his hand. “You know, Cassie, we’re the only blood relatives of Michael here. We should appear united.”

Castiel scowls. “That would be nice if you actually knew how to stand by people. I'm actually surprised you showed up. Must've been hard for you.”

“Play nice, Cassie. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. Why can’t you let your grudge go so we can be a family again?”

Castiel snorts, turning away from him. “How exactly am I supposed to trust you? You abandoned us. Maybe if you hadn’t left, Michael would still be alive. And because of you, my brother- the only person who’s ever cared about me- is dead. You’re no better than our father.”

Gabriel flinches out of the corner of his eye before he sighs, moving to stand beside him at the window. “I’m sorry, Castiel. How many times do I have to say it?”

His jaw clenches. “No amount will ever be enough.”

Gabriel pats him on the shoulder and Castiel stiffens under the touch. “You’re wrong, fyi.”

Castiel turns his icy gaze on him. “About what?”

Gabe takes another sip of his drink before answering. “ _I_ care about you. And no matter how much you try to push me away, I will be there for you this time. I’m not going anywhere, so you better get used to my pretty face being around.” He lets his hand slide from his shoulder and saunters off to talk with some of Michael’s friends and colleagues.

Along with Gabriel, Castiel hates every one of them too. They’re the same people who came up to him at the wake the day before to tell him how after Michael finished his internship at the architectural firm he was at and got his first job, he was going to put his money towards sending Castiel to a good college so he could pursue whatever profession he wanted. Castiel supposes they were just trying to make him feel better- tell him how good of a person Michael was as if he didn’t already know, but he didn’t want to be reminded of what’s now gone from the world.

Castiel turns to look back out the window and gasps when he sees what’s outside. He yells for help, running out to the parking lot and straight to the smoking heap of metal.

“Somebody help me!” he screams. But he can’t wait any longer. He goes to the driver side and pries the door open, which isn’t too hard considering it’s been crumpled like tinfoil and barely hanging from the hinges.

His heart drops and his blood turns cold when he sees the person inside, bloody and broken and crushed.

_Michael._

Castiel wakes with a start when he feels someone nudging him. He looks around wildly until his eyes rest on worried green eyes.

Dean.

“A-are we here?” he asks, trying to conceal the shakiness in his voice.

Dean shakes his head, focusing his eyes back on the road. “Almost. Sorry if I startled you it’s just… you seemed like you were having a bad dream or something.”

Castiel sits up straighter in his seat and rubs a hand down his face, feeling the cold sweat that’s dampened his skin. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember.” Dean can probably see straight through the lie, but thankfully he doesn’t press the matter further.

“Are you feeling better?”

Castiel nods. “I think so.” Dean doesn’t say anything more and Castiel turns his gaze to watch the blur of trees, letting the green attempt to soothe his thumping heart.

He can’t shake the eerie feeling that’s settled over his body though. It’s been a while since he had a nightmare. He had thought after all these years, he’d finally overcome his loss, overcome the pain.

Guess not.

As many times as he’s had that nightmare, it has never stopped being any less terrifying. Every time, he’d wake up with a start in the middle of the night, soaked in a cold sweat and panting. Sometimes it varied slightly; like some nights he would look down into the casket just to see Michael bloody and disfigured as he was after the accident.

Other nights, he would observe the crash from a far, like some sort of out of body experience. He would watch himself get flung through the windshield as the drunk driver in the truck barreled into their small, 1978 Lincoln Continental, crushing it under its weight. He would watch his pitiful, broken body drag itself to its feet and run to the driver side, screaming and yelling for help. He would watch as smoke rose up from the scrap metal that used to be their car while his sixteen year old self pried the door away to reveal Michael barely holding onto the little life he had left.

And he thought he finally got past all of that. But now all he feels is numbness.

He needs to distract himself. He glances over at Dean who looks deep in thought himself. “So, any significance behind our destination?”

Dean looks at him with surprise but nods. “A little. It’s this beautiful, log cabin right off a lake. You know, one of those fancy ones that you see in the magazines.”

Castiel nods. “I’ve seen those.”

“Well, when Sam and I were younger, I would rent us a small cabin for the weekend to have fun on the lake. Just to get far away from home for a bit when Sam and Dad were especially at each other’s throats. Gradually, more people started coming with us- Jo, Charlie, Jess- and we always had a great time. And every time we went, we would see that log cabin. We all joked that someday, when we got enough money, we would rent it for the weekend or buy it and live together like some terrible sitcom,” Dean chuckles.

Castiel smiles faintly at this, imagining them renting a boat to ride around on the water and laying out under the stars at night with the sounds of the nature and their laughter as their soundtrack. Maybe Dean would even be grilling dinner, since it seems to be a talent of his.

“So when Sam proposed to Jess, they knew exactly where they wanted to get married; some place private and meaningful to them. We almost thought it wouldn’t be possible with the money we had saved, but Jess’ parents are saints and made it happen. But Cas, wait until you see it. It’s amazing. It’s part of what made me truly want to pursue architecture. I wanted to make things that made people feel like how I felt about that house.”

Castiel’s smile widens at this, feeling oddly excited by the prospect of laying eyes on the inspiration behind Dean going down the path of architecture. “I look forward to seeing it.”

They ride the rest of the way with Dean telling different stories from over years on the lake while his classic rock plays from the cassette player in the background. Castiel listens intently, a soft smile ever present on his lips. He could not feel more at ease, especially after that dream.

About twenty minutes later, they’re pulling into a gray, stone driveway that ends in one of the most beautiful houses he’s ever seen. When Dean parks the Impala and turns her off, Castiel steps out of the car, staring in awe at the house.

It’s a mixture of brick and wood, the foundation of the house built out of the gray brick which then transitions seamlessly into the rich, dark wood. And the windows- they’re expansive bay windows framed with thin, smoothed logs that stretch all the way up to the peaked roof.

And just beyond the house, Castiel can see a bit of the blue from the lake. It looks like something straight out of a magazine, just as Dean had said.

“Wow.”

Dean chuckles beside him. “Not bad, right?”

Castiel grins at him. “No, not bad at all.”

Sam approaches them sleepily, rubbing his eyes and Dean slaps him on the back. “You’re looking better, Sammy!”

Sam cringes at the loudness of his voice. “Yeah, I feel a little better. I’m sure a jump in the lake would help though.”

“Hell yeah! Let’s go!” Dean says and before he’s about to take off, Jess’ voice stops him.

“Not so fast Dean! The tent guys are coming in an hour and you need to be ready to help once they’re done.”

Dean and Sam both groan and Castiel watches them in amusement. “But we had such a long night Jess…”

Jess is already walking back to the car to get her bags, calling over her shoulder, “Not my problem!”

Sam smiles fondly after her before turning back to Dean and Castiel. “Well, might as well unpack our stuff while we have some time. Maybe we can do a night swim or something?”

Dean nods before walking to the Impala’s trunk and popping it open, pulling out Castiel’s bags and handing them to him.

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean smirks at him. “Since when do you say thank you?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “You always know how to ruin the moment, don’t you?”

“I certainly didn’t ruin it last night.” Dean winks at him and Castiel’s face heats up.

“Let’s just go find our room.”

Dean pulls his bags out and slams the trunk closed, raising his eyebrows at Castiel. “Wow, ready for round two already?”

Castiel huffs. “You wish.”

But unfortunately, Dean’s chuckling as he makes his way towards the house and Castiel silently declares that Dean won this round. Dammit. He’s losing an awful lot lately. More than he has since he’s known Dean. But there’s still plenty of light left in the day for him to redeem himself.

Jess unlocks the house and they all step in with their bags, stopping at the entrance to admire the inside.

“This is beautiful,” Jess breathes, eyes wide as she stares up at the vaulted ceilings that must be at least twenty feet high. Castiel follows her gaze, studying the exposed wooden beams and the skylight that sends rays of sunlight washing over the open room. His eyes travel to the slate colored masonry fireplace and then to the grand staircase with small designs carved into the wooden railing.

This place is absolutely stunning.

“We call the master!” Dean announces, already making his way up the stairs.

“Hey! Not fair, we’re the ones getting married tomorrow!” Sam scrambles after him with both sets of footsteps pounding throughout the second floor as they run frantically from room to room in search of the master bedroom.

Jess smiles, glancing at him. “You and Dean can have it. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Absolutely not. This weekend is about you and Sam. I’ll drag Dean out if he refuses.” He grins, quite liking the idea of it.

Jess giggles, taking his hand and pulling him up the stairs with her. “Come on, let’s go watch them fight over who gets what.”

Yelling and whining emanates through the house and when he and Jess walk into an open bedroom, they’re met with the sight of Dean sprawled out over the bed, gripping one of the posts while Sam is trying to yank him off by his foot.  
  
“Dean, get off my bed!”

“You snooze, you lose Sammy! I don’t make the rules,” Dean chides, gripping the side of the mattress to anchor himself while trying to kick his foot free from Sam.

Sam glances at them as they walk in and gives Castiel the biggest puppy eyes he’s ever seen. “Cas, can you tell your fiancé to let Jess and I have this room?”

Dean snaps his head to stare at him, eyes wide. “Don’t fall for it, Cas!”

Castiel rolls his eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Get off the bed, Dean.”

“Ha! I win!” Sam crows triumphantly. Dean’s mouth drops open in shock before shooting a dirty look to Sam.

“This isn’t over, Bitch.”

Sam just grins smugly at him. “Bring it, Jerk.”

Dean rolls off the bed, grabbing his duffle and pushes past Castiel in the doorway, muttering “traitor” under his breath.

Castiel shakes his head, trying hard to conceal the stupid smile that wants to beam out of him. He looks to Sam and Jess. “Let us know when you need help.”

They nod, giving him kind smiles and Castiel leaves them, following Dean down the hall to a smaller bedroom. Although, it’s not exactly tiny- it’s still fairly spacious and nothing to turn a nose up at. It even has its own private bathroom.

Castiel immediately goes to the sliding glass door that leads out to a small balcony and opens it, breathing in the fresh breeze the lolls into the room. He admires the expanse of neatly kept green grass that leads up to the blue, sparking lake. “Don’t pout. This is still a nice room, Dean.”

Dean snorts. “It’s not about the room, Cas. It was about _winning_. Besides, I thought you’d want the bigger room so we could, you know, spread out or something.”

Castiel looks over his shoulder, confused at first but then he realizes what Dean’s referring to. Their sleeping arrangements.

But the thought of not sleeping next to Dean after he has the past two nights doesn’t sit well with him. There’s a strange comfort in lying next to Dean, like he’s not alone in the world. He’s too selfish to give that up even when he knows sleeping in the same bed is just one more mistake to the many he’s already committed. “This bed is bigger than the one in your room. I think it would give us plenty of room and we won’t end up like…”

Dean nods slowly, eyeing the bed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Castiel looks back out the doorway at the beautiful landscaping of the backyard, trying not to let his thoughts consume him.

“Hey, I’m gonna run and get some food for the house with Jess. I think Sam needs another nap before tonight. Wanna come?”

Castiel opens his mouth to accept but reminds himself that maybe it’s not the best idea. He shouldn’t want to spend extra time with Dean, especially since he’s come to terms with his attraction towards him. It’s just too dangerous.

“I think I’ll stay here and look around. Thank you for the invitation though.” He keeps his eyes trained on the gentle waves that lap at a long, wooden pier connected to the shore in the backyard.

“Okay. Um, you like PB&J’s, right?”

Castiel blinks in surprise and turns around to face him. “Yes, I do actually. How did you know?” He probably shouldn’t be so surprised though- if Dean managed to pick up his breakfast fruit preferences, what makes his favorite sandwich type any different?

Dean snickers. “I know a lot of things, Cas.” And before he can respond, Dean’s walking out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t miss me too much!”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth lifts in a soft smile and he shakes his head. He returns his attention to the balcony and finally steps outside, filling his lungs with fresh air and exhaling.

Breathe. 

Just breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a lowkey chapter, but then again, anything is lowkey after the last one lol  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took a little bit longer to update, but I thank you for your patience and continued support. You're all amazing ♥

A bead of sweat tickles Castiel’s skin as it rolls down the side of his face. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, glancing to the far side of the tent to Dean, who is standing with his hands on his hips, breathing slightly labored. Dean meets his gaze and narrows his eyes, dropping his hands and standing up straighter.  
  
“I won,” he announces.  
  
Castiel scoffs, straightening his own posture. “You did not. I set up significantly more tables than you.”  
  
Dean snorts as he starts walking towards the center of the large, round tent. “The hell you did! I did this whole side! You got maybe four tables at the most.”  
  
Castiel moves to meet him in the middle, holding his gaze the entire time. “You know, I’ve noticed you have an inflated perception of the amount of work you accomplish. Perhaps a reality check would be beneficial for you.”  
  
They stop in front of each other, standing toe to toe while their eyes hold the others’. “I wonder where I could’ve picked that up from.”  
  
Castiel squints at him, refusing to back down from the challenge when he hears chuckling. Dean’s eyes flicker away first and Castiel grins, feeling satisfied as he looks to the source of the laughter.  
  
“This isn’t a competition guys. You both did the same amount of work, okay?” Jess says, smiling at them with a small hop down from her place on a round table.  
  
Sam shushes her quickly, leaning in close but not making much of an effort to whisper. “The more they compete, the less work we have to do.”  
  
Jess giggles again. “Right, my bad.”  
  
Sam places a kiss against her temple before scrolling through the iPod in his hands.  
  
“We’ll keep that in mind next time you want our help,” Dean grunts, sitting down in the nearest chair.  
  
Castiel smirks, taking a seat beside him. “You’re just worried I’ll beat you again.”  
  
Dean groans. “You did not beat me, Cas!”  
  
Castiel can’t help but snicker and then there’s a new voice interrupting them.  
  
“What’s up bitches!” Charlie calls, drawing everyone’s attention to her and her armful of water bottles.  
  
Dean snorts. “Nice of you to show up _after_ we did all the heavy lifting.”  
  
She looks around at the tables and chairs, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t think you guys would set up this quick. I even left work early to help.”  
  
“You can thank the building team over there,” Sam remarks.  
  
Charlie chuckles, handing a water bottle to everyone and Castiel tries not to drink the whole thing in one go. It’s not especially hot outside in the late afternoon sunshine, but with the lifting and moving of all the tables and chairs, it got him to work up a sweat and a strong desire to jump in the lake.  
  
“Where’s the beer?” Dean whines, giving the water bottle a skeptical look.  
  
Charlie rolls her eyes, hopping up on the table beside them with her legs dangling over the edge. “I heard all about last night. I think it’s best to save the alcohol for tomorrow.”  
  
“That reminds me- no going at it tonight, you two. We need to sleep,” Sam says, lifting his gaze to flicker between Dean and Castiel.  
  
Castiel chokes on his water and Dean shifts awkwardly beside him, wiping his hands against his knees. “Um, I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”  
  
This prompts a laugh from Jess. “You thought the whole house didn’t hear you last night?”  
  
“Even I couldn’t sleep and I was drunk out of my mind,” Sam adds.  
  
“Oh, do tell!” Charlie quips, nudging Dean with her elbow as he scrubs a hand down his face, Castiel not missing the bright blush that’s coloring his face. Normally he would revel in the sight of an embarrassed Dean Winchester- that is, if he wasn’t blushing furiously himself.  
  
Shit, _everyone_ heard them? He hopes ‘everyone’ doesn’t include John, but odds are it does. Just what he needs.  
  
“Uh- we, um, I think-“ Dean stammers and Castiel interjects for him before their shared embarrassment can get any worst.  
  
“We promise we’ll behave tonight.”  
  
Sam snickers under his breath a “Yeah, okay,” as he connects the iPod to a docking station. “Who wants to be our temporary DJ?”  
  
“Oh! I’ll do it!” Charlie’s hand shoots into the air as if she even had competition for the job. Sam brings the docking station over to her and pulls Jess by the hand to the wooden dance floor that was set up not even an hour ago.  
  
“What are you guys doing?” Dean asks, leaning over to read the song displayed on the screen.  
  
“Practicing our first dance,” Jess says, reaching her hand to rest on Sam’s shoulder with her other held in his.  
  
“This should be good,” Dean chuckles under his breath, leaning back in his seat.  
  
“No laughing!” Sam says sternly and throwing a pointed look to Dean, who holds his hands up in surrender.  
  
“I didn’t say anything!”  
  
“That’s a lie, Dean,” Castiel tells him, earning himself a glare in response.  
  
“Alright alright, enough bickering. Jesus, are you sure you’re not married already?” Charlie gives them both an amused look. Before either of them can answer, Charlie yells, “Okay, I’m counting it off!” and after an enthusiastic “five, six, seven, eight!”, _Marry Me_ by Train starts to play through the speakers and Sam and Jess take their first steps.  
  
Castiel watches them, swaying and floating around the floor, giggling when one of them messes up and it brings a small smile to his face.  
  
When the song ends, Sam wraps his arms around Jess and pulls her into a consuming hug while the three of them clap to their performance.  
  
“Not bad, Sammy. But I expected more from you,” Dean tells him, a teasing glint to his eye.  
  
Sam crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at Dean. “Oh, and you’re a dance expert suddenly?”  
  
He shrugs. “I’m just saying. I know you can do better.” Sam and Jess exchange a conspiring smile before looking back to him.  
  
“Okay, show us,” Jess prompts.  
  
Dean scowls. “No way.”  
  
Castiel grins at him. Oh, this is going to be fun to watch. “Come on, Dean. Why don’t you show them your great moves?”  
  
He flashes Castiel a dirty look before a mischievous grin creeps across his face. “Fine. Let’s go, _partner_.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head, leaning away from Dean. “No way, they asked-“  
  
“You too, Cas!” Sam interjects, turning his evil smile on him. Shit, how did this backfire on him so badly?  
  
“I’m not the one who criticized you. I thought you both looked great!”  
  
His lame attempt to escape the situation is futile because Dean stands, grabbing one of Castiel’s upheld hands and pulls him to his feet anyway. “Too bad. You’re my partner so deal with it.”  
  
Castiel narrows his eyes at him but lets Dean pull to the dance floor, Charlie calling words of encouragement behind them. “You’ll be awesome! I’ll pick a new song for you guys.”  
  
“What have you done?” he hisses under his breath while they wait for Charlie’s cue.  
  
Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you a bad dancer?”  
  
Castiel huffs. “Of course not.”  
  
“Then you’re scared,” Dean smiles widely, that spark of a challenge lighting his eyes.  
  
“Am not!” It’s then Castiel realizes how childish it all sounds, but he can’t bring himself to care much.  
  
Dean shrugs. “Then I don’t see the problem.”  
  
“Okay, you guys ready?” Charlie calls to them.  
  
“I know I am!” Sam quips from the spot where he and Dean were sitting next to Charlie, Jess pulled into his lap instead of sitting where Castiel was.  
  
He sighs and places his hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to ignore the butterflies that flutter furiously in his stomach when Dean wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close, their free hands locking together.  
  
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Dean says and Castiel prays Dean can’t feel how hard his heart is beating behind his ribcage.  
  
Charlie starts the song and Castiel nearly blushes at the selection alone- _Like Real People Do_ by Hozier. A song about kissing. Great.  
  
He needs to get some control back into the situation. _Now_.  
  
He tries to take over the lead which only causes them to trip over each other’s feet and collide ungracefully. Dean furrows his brow at him.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” he whispers gruffly.  
  
“Trying to lead,” Castiel answers, squinting at Dean who rolls his eyes in response.  
  
“Just relax.”  
  
Castiel’s first instinct is to retort and stand his ground. He’s not one to take orders very often. He’s the one that gives them. If anyone needs to ‘just relax’ and let him take the lead, it’s Dean. But one look at Dean’s soft green eyes combined with the relaxed timbre of the song make him stand down. He nods, letting Dean sweep them around the floor while throwing in a few twists and dips that completely take away his breath.  
  
“Isn’t that better?” Dean smiles to him after he brings Castiel in from a turn.  
  
“Shut up,” he mutters but can’t help how the corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile, holding Dean’s level gaze.  
  
And every single time the chorus plays, he can’t help but let his eyes settle on Dean’s perfect looking lips, remembering too vividly how incredible they felt against his last night. He can’t help but relive every soft press of lips and swipe of the tongue and hot breath against skin. He wants more than anything to experience that again- this time without the effects of alcohol making their movements sloppy and their senses numbed. Because if Castiel can remember how good it all felt while he was completely intoxicated, how would it feel sober?  
  
Dammit, when is this song going to end?  
  
But finally, it does and Castiel breaks away a little too fast, desperate to separate himself from the temptation in front of him, although neither of them has broken their eye contact yet. Castiel wonders if Dean has the same thoughts running through his mind.  
  
Dean had said this morning it was all for fun, but does that mean he at least enjoyed himself? Does a part of Dean long to feel those sensations again even if there’s no meaning behind it?  
  
It takes the loud clapping from their audience to bring Castiel back to reality.  
  
“That was pretty good, guys!” Jess says as she stands and Sam begrudgingly nods in agreement.  
  
“Yeah, not bad.”  
  
Dean smiles widely and looks to Charlie. “You’re the judge Charlie. Who won?”  
  
She stops clapping, mouth dropping open with her eyes flickering between the four of them.  
  
“I can’t choose, Dean!”  
  
“Nope! You gotta!” Sam presses.  
  
Charlie shakes her head, crossing her arms stubbornly. “Fine. It’s a tie.”  
  
Dean scoffs, leaning close to Castiel. “We totally won.”  
  
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dean,” Sam rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “But we still need to practice a bit more before the rehearsal dinner tonight.”  
  
Castiel nods and sits back down in his seat, still feeling dazed from the dance. He can’t help but think that if only him and Dean were alone… He shakes his head to chase away the unwelcome thoughts.  
  
No. None of that. Not again. He’s already daydreamed enough anyway.  
  
He spends the next hour watching Sam and Jess practice, focusing a little too hard on every little movement just to keep his mind from wandering. It also keeps his eyes from tracking Dean’s movements as he throws temporary table clothes over the tables for the rehearsal dinner. He cannot afford getting lost in his desires again.  
  


*****

  
The fairy lights strung up around the swooping canopy of the tent give a soft glow to the yard, although it’s not exactly dark yet. It’s that part of the evening where the sky is painted in various shades of pinks and oranges and purples and deep blues and reds while everything on the ground is a black silhouette. It’s an interesting time of day. There’s light, but it’s too dark to actually see without the aid of manmade light.

Castiel shifts his gaze from the beautiful sunset to the wedding party, who are mingling with the other guests- most of which are Jess’ family. Dean has paraded him around for introductions- and to do some PR for their engagement, since that’s the reason Castiel’s even here- but he started feel overwhelmed with so many new faces, ones that he most likely will never see again.

Now he’s standing near the edge of the tent alone, but he doesn’t mind. He’s completely immersed in watching everyone interact; Sam and Jess occasionally leaning close to whisper and giggle with each other, Charlie and Dean discretely playing some sort of real life Facebook poke war while Jess’ sisters flash them looks of minor annoyance, as they pass by. He’s even surprised to see Sam’s college buddies each with a bottle of that craft beer from the brewery, but they’re sober and exuding a much calmer energy than the previous night.

Same goes for John. The last time he saw him, it was quite a scene, but tonight he’s been reserved- mostly sticking around Bobby and Ellen when he’s not talking with Jess’ parents. Castiel can’t decide if it’s good or bad that Dean and John barely interact. Actually, they steer clear of each other completely. Perhaps, for now, it’s for the best.

“Hey Cas.” A voice startles him and he looks beside him to see Jo. He can’t resist groaning internally.

“Hi Jo. You finally made it,” he tries not to sound stiff about it. And no, he’s definitely _not_ being petty.

She laughs lightly. “I know it’s terrible that I’m a bridesmaid and I’m late, but I told Mama I’d help Ash close tonight so she can finally have a night off.”

Castiel forces a small smile that really isn’t too hard to force. Dammit, why does she make it difficult for him to completely dislike her? “Ah, I see.”

Jo nods. “I better go say hi to everyone. I’ll catch up with you later,” she tells him before hurrying deeper into the tent, Castiel watching everyone greet her, specifically Dean. To his dismay, he wraps his arms around her in a hug and he shakes his head, looking away and hating how jealous he gets over seeing those two together. This is ridiculous.

“Hey sweetie,” Ellen saunters up beside him with Bobby who already has a second beer in hand.

Castiel gives them both an honest smile. “Good evening Ellen, Bobby.”

“I’m surprised no one’s burned down the tent yet,” Bobby remarks, eyeing the flowing canopy sheets and twinkle lights.

He chuckles. “The night is still young.”

Ellen laughs at that. “You already know the dynamics. That’ll help you out in the future.”

Castiel turns his attention back to the small crowd, surprised to see Charlie jogging up to them.

“Hey guys!”

“Is Sam ready to pull his hair out? I’m serious about that haircut I offered if he already has.” Bobby takes a drink of his beer and Ellen smacks him gently on the shoulder.

Charlie laughs. “I think they’re both starting to realize how real it all is. But Jess sent me to ask if you can check on the food for them, make sure everything will be ready on time.”

Ellen nods. “Sure thing. And I’ll make sure this one doesn’t steal food from the plates.” She grins at Bobby, who holds his hands up.

“I ain’t doing nothin’.”

Ellen shakes her head and pulls him towards the house, leaving Castiel alone with Charlie.

“Come on Cas, sit with me,” she says, pulling him towards the nearest table, while giving small waves to some of Jess’ family as they pass by.

“Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the wedding party?” he questions as he takes up the chair next to her.

She shakes her head. “Nah. I’m not a bridesmaid- just here to help them out.”

“Sam didn’t ask you?”

“He did, but I declined. I’m more the type to go after bridesmaids, not be one. Besides, it’s a full wedding party as it is. I can’t keep up with all those college friends of theirs,” she chuckles.

Castiel tilts his head. “I imagine Dean will ask you to be a bridesmaid. Would you accept his invitation?”

She snorts. “Oh please, Cas. I have no choice in the matter.” She laughs softly to herself before speaking again. “Of course I would say yes. He’ll be lost without me there to slap some sense into him.”

He nods, smiling as he slides his gaze to Dean, who is now talking with the their family’s Pastor, Jim, nodding every so often and gesturing with his hands as he seems to be asking questions. A warm feeling fill Castiel’s chest as he watches him, almost forgetting Charlie was sitting there next to him, watching him watch Dean. When he catches her eye, a smirk clear on her lips, his cheeks warm considerably.

“I think tomorrow is going to be great,” he says in a lame attempt to hide that he’d been caught staring.

Charlie nods excitedly. “It’s going to be beautiful. They’re going to have such a happy life together.”

Castiel seeks Sam and Jess out in the crowd and he murmurs his agreement. They really will be happy together. And Castiel has never been so happy for someone else, but also so envious. Oh, how envious he is of them.

It’s not long before everyone starts making their way to the tables for dinner. Jess and Sam stand on the dance floor, each with their drink of choice.

“We’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight. We couldn’t be happier to see our families together right now and we’re excited to share tomorrow with all of you. Here’s to more great times to come,” Sam says, raising his glass and everyone cheers to his words, taking a drink.

Then a small team of waiters arrives with platters of food. It’s a family style dinner, with plates of chicken and rice and salad and cooked vegetables laid out before them. Unfortunately, Sam and Jess’ immediate family are all seated at one table, which leaves Castiel alone with some of Jess’ family, but Charlie stays with him- not that he minds though. He enjoys her company quite a bit.

He hates the sight of Jo sitting next to Dean at the table though. He can’t help the bitter thoughts of how she’s not exactly immediate family, but then he reminds himself that her and Ellen, along with Bobby, basically are. He knows he’s overreacting and there’s no reason for it, but he’s still not sure of Dean’s feelings towards Jo. Perhaps she knows there’s nothing more for the two of them, but does he?

Castiel listens to Charlie going on and on about Harry Potter- just as Dean warned him she’d do- but he can’t help his eyes continually shift to Dean’s table and trying not to frown and scowl when he sees Dean and Jo’s head crane towards each other, murmuring quietly to one another.

He’s half-heartedly picking at his chicken when he glances up and see them both cracking up, Jo shoving Dean playfully while a smile brightens up his face. The sight makes him lose what little appetite he had left and he sets down his fork, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the scene.

He feels someone’s eyes boring into him and he looks up, realizing that Charlie is watching him closely.

He clears his throat awkwardly and searches for anything to avoid her asking because over the few days he’s known Charlie, he already knows how blunt she can be. She’s not scared to be direct, so he must now work around that. “So, how did you and Dean meet anyway?”

Either she didn’t notice the avoidance of the topic or gets that Castiel needs a distraction and smiles, leaning back in her seat. “College. We were in the same principles of computer engineering class. We sat next to each other and always ended up being partners for assignments. We helped each other out. But we didn’t really consider each other friends. Just two students with a mutual need to pass a required class.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows at this. Dean and Charlie get along so well with each other, he finds it hard to believe they didn’t instantly become what they are today. “When did you consider you both to be friends?”

Charlie snorts and she lowers her eyes to her lap, laughing as a light blush colors her cheeks. “That’s a funny story, actually.”

He smiles. “I’d love to hear it.” He really would.

Charlie looks up at him and takes a breath before straightening herself in the chair again. “Okay, so at some point in the semester, we had a project that was, like, a huge portion of our grade. I may have been a little sleep deprived the night before it was due and well… I emailed the wrong thing to the professor. They were files about my LARP group so it’s safe to say there was some embarrassing stuff in that email.”

Castiel screws up his face at the strange word. “Uh, larp?”

Charlie laughs and quickly explains. “It stands for Live Action Role Play.”

He nods slowly, still not entirely sure what one does while ‘larping’ but he nods, letting her continue.

“So, I had to get into his email and delete the files before he saw them 8 am the next morning… which meant I had to hack his email.”

His eyes widen. “You hacked your professor’s email?”

She shakes her head. “Not exactly. See, that was my first idea, but the guy knows his stuff- as he should. I couldn’t break in to save my life, but I knew the TA would be in his office grading papers, so I decided to go there and delete it from his computer instead.”

Castiel nods slowly. “Seems like a reasonable plan.”

“I know! But when I got there- keep in mind, this guy is very stuck up and a ‘follow every rule exactly’ type of guy- the jerk wouldn’t let me into the professor’s email! I mean, I get that I could’ve just emailed him and explained everything, but it would’ve been super embarrassing, ya know?”

He grins. “I guess it would.”

“So I call up Dean to ask what to do since we kind of talked and knew each other and the guy seemed notorious for getting away with things. And you know what he told me?”

Castiel raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“He told me to flirt with the guy and he’d do anything I want.”

Castiel snorts, remembering Dean mentioning before that Charlie is very much into women. “So what did you do?”

“Well, I told him that he wasn’t exactly my type- if you know what I mean- and you know what he does? He gives me a step by step tutorial on how to manipulate the guy using flirtatious techniques! And it worked! I got the TA to log into the professor’s email and delete it. That’s the moment we officially became friends.”

Castiel chuckles, imagining Dean giving specific instructions on how to flirt with a guy to a deer-in-the-headlights looking Charlie, and apparently being a good enough teacher to have her succeed. “That’s quite a story.”

Charlie laughs with him. “Tell me about it! That guy can charm the pants off of anyone. Well, except me of course.”

Castiel tries to think back if Dean’s ever pulled any of his flirtatious manipulations on him and to his displeasure, he realizes it’s more often than he’d like to admit. Did he just never notice it or was he secretly enjoying Dean flirting with him then?

“You know, Castiel? I like you. You sound like a dick when you’re at work, but I guess you have to be if you’re the boss. And all I thought was how you were gonna be some stuck up, stiff jerk, but you’re not bad,” Charlie says, punching him in the arm rather hard and he refrains from rubbing at the spot.

Normally, he would groan internally and wish with every fiber of his being to be anywhere else but here- most likely at work doing some sort of project he deemed as crucial. And he should probably be insulted by Charlie calling him a dick. But he feels none of that now. In fact, he finds himself smiling, a genuine happiness lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, Charlie. I can honestly say that it’s been a great privilege to meet you this week.”

Charlie grins. “Hey, let’s not make it just this weekend, okay? We all here miss Dean terribly when he’s gone. But now we’re going to miss you too, Cas. You’re part of the family. Promise me you’ll both visit?”

Castiel’s smile falters, feeling choked by her words. They’re so incredibly kind. It's not often people tell him that he’d be missed. Quite the opposite, actually. People want more than anything to be as far away from him as possible. He hasn’t known the concept of family for years now, and if he’s being honest, he’s content with that because he’s never known the type of family that Dean has here. It’s different from having something and it being taken away versus never having it at all. Him not having this tight family bond didn’t bother him before.

As a result, he’s skeptical if he’s even capable to love, let alone being worthy of someone else’s.

Why would anyone want him around?

But here he is now, surrounded by the beautiful family of a man he may or may not have deeper feelings for than just simple attraction and he’s going to destroy it all. He’s going to destroy everything and watch it burn because he’s too selfish to walk away.

No, he’s not capable of real love. And he’s not even close to being worthy.

“Cas?” Charlie asks uncertainly, laying her hand soothingly on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He blinks, meeting her gaze and forces the smile back on his face. “I would love for Dean and I to visit more often, Charlie.”

It’s not a lie either. He really would. That’s what kills him.

He doesn’t realize how fast time has gone by until he hears Dean’s voice clear above everyone else’s to give the ending toast.

“Good evening,” he pauses, waiting for everyone to quiet their conversations. “I just wanted to thank everyone once again for coming out tonight. On behalf of Sam and Jess, we appreciate you all spending this evening together because pretty soon, we are all going to be one family, and tonight is only the start. Tomorrow, we’re going to celebrate the love of these two crazy kids, and I couldn’t be happier for them.” Dean raises his glass one last. “To family.”

Everyone echoes his cheer with smiles, but Castiel can’t bring himself to join in. He just raises his glass slightly before downing the remainder of his drink. He feels like such a fraud.

While people make their way out of the tent, the wedding party meets one last time to go over details of tomorrow. Afterwards, Dean approaches Castiel and Charlie. “Hey guys, sorry I was pulled away all night.”

Charlie clicks her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly at him. “You’ll be making up for it tomorrow.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I know. You’ll give me no choice anyway.”

“Damn right!” she holds her head confidently, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Well, all of Jess’ family is leaving now. The lovebirds are too tired to do some night swimming. How about you guys?”

Charlie’s eyes flicker between them and she snorts. “And be your third wheel? Hell no. I’m going to bed.”

She gets to her feet, pulling Castiel to his before wrapping him in a tight hug. “Night Cas! Thanks for listening to me ramble all night.”

Castiel grins at her when she pulls away. “It was a pleasure.”

Charlie turns to Dean and pokes him in the arm. “Later nerd. Remember, best behavior tonight. We need _sleep_.”

Dean rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair. “You wouldn’t be saying that if that mystery girl you’ve been fawning over for a while now was here.”

She laughs and Castiel doesn’t miss the blush that darkens her cheeks before turning away and walking towards the house, calling over her shoulder, “Okay, you got me. ‘Night bitches.”

Castiel watches her go fondly. It never gets old watching her and Dean interact.

“Hey, you guys coming in for the night or staying out here?” Sam calls to them from the patio. Castiel looks around, realizing that everyone has cleared out by now. The only other person who was still here was Jo- helping collect stray bottles and glasses- but even she’s already trudged across the yard to disappear inside the house after Charlie. Now it’s just him and Dean standing under the soft glow of the fairy lights.

Dean looks to him. “You tired?”

Castiel shrugs. Honestly, he’s not. Even if he was, he’d much rather stay up and talk with Dean. He’s not sure what exactly they’d talk about, but he’s come to hate sleep because it means there’s room for his mind to wander and his thoughts to run wild. For doubt and anxiety to fill his head.

“Are you?”

Dean purses his lips, looking past him at the lake, eyes longing. “Nah, not really.”

He nods, unsure what this is supposed to imply. Before he can ask, Dean turns his gaze back on him and grins. “Wanna take a walk?”

Castiel studies his face, the way the warm glow of the lights darken the green in his eyes and the subtle shadows that dance across his cheekbones from his long eyelashes.

There’s no question what his answer is.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that cliff hanger, but it was literally the best place to cut it off. The next chapter is a monster, but I'm reeeally excited for it! Prepare your bodies... ;)  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was both one of my favorite chapters to write and one of the hardest. Also, sorry it's on the longer side- there was just no good stopping point and you probably would've killed me if I cut it off in the middle of the action again, lol. *cough* tags have been updated too *cough cough* I hope you guys enjoy it :)

A burst of flutters erupts in Dean’s chest at the simple response. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the smile that threatens to break across his face contained. He looks over his shoulder to the waiting Sam and Jess and waves them off.  
  
“We’ll be in soon.”  
  
“Okay. We’re turning off the tent lights so it’s going to get dark,” Jess calls back.  
  
Dean snorts. “The dark doesn’t scare me. ‘Night you two.”  
  
“Sleep well,” Castiel calls to them. Sam and Jess bid them goodnight as well before all the outside lights are flicked off, leaving them both in complete darkness. He can only see the black silhouette of Cas in front of him and he assumes Cas can only see the same of him.  
  
Because he can never seem to pass up a good opportunity to mess with Cas, he takes it upon himself to lean forward and whisper darkly to him.  
  
“Are you scared of the dark, Cas?”  
  
Castiel’s shape jumps, followed by a scoff despite the scare. “Not one bit.”  
  
Dean smirks. “Sure.” Even though he can’t see, he knows Cas is rolling his eyes as hard as ever.  
  
“Did you ask me to stay out here just so you can tease me like a first grader?”  
  
“Of course not. I want to show you this place at night. C’mon.” Dean feels for Cas’ hand, lacing their fingers together before pulling him towards the center of the yard where the sky isn’t blocked by the looming tent or any of the large, impressive trees with their expansive canopies. He feels Cas hesitate and Dean realizes how it’s probably odd for them to be holding hands in the dark. They clearly don’t need to put an act on.  
  
“Uh, just so we don’t lose each other.” What a pathetic excuse.  
  
Castiel snickers but follows without resistance. “Are you sure you’re not planning to murder me and dump my dead body in the lake so you can get out of our deal?” He holds onto Dean’s hand tight despite the concerns he voices.  
  
“Well, that’s an idea,” Dean says with mock intrigue before chuckling quietly. “But no, that’s not my plan. You’ll see.”  
  
He glances upwards and decides this is as good a spot as any to sit. “Right here.” He settles himself in the soft grass, Castiel following his lead and Dean lets go of his hand begrudgingly. He can’t think of a lame excuse of why he would still need to hold it. He’ll keep thinking though.  
  
“Lay down,” he commands, leaning back into the grass and Cas’ dark shape obeys, reclining next to him.  
  
“Wow,” Castiel breathes and Dean stares up at the clear, star dotted sky with only a sliver of moon showing.  
  
“This is my favorite part about this place,” Dean murmurs. “There’re plenty of lakes closer to home, but here, there’s not a lot of light pollution to hide the stars.” He turns his head to look at Cas. His eyes are adjusting to the darkness and he can now make out Castiel’s features; the shape of his nose, his disheveled hair sticking in every which direction in the most appealing way possible, the slight part in his lips, those wide eyes are taking in the glittering sky above them.  
  
“It’s beautiful.”  
  
The corner of Dean’s mouth lifts, completely entranced with watching Cas admire the stars- the same way Dean did every time he looked over at him during the rehearsal dinner. He couldn’t help it- the sight of Cas under the glow of the lights, eyes that he's used to seeing as disconnected and calculating every moment were just observant and taking it all in, and especially the smiles that reached up to his eyes when he was talking with Charlie. Dean liked it all more than he should. Seeing Cas and Charlie get along so well, Cas actually appearing happy for once.  
  
Still, that doesn’t mean he should’ve been staring. No matter how many times he looked away and scolded himself for staring, yet again. He just could not keep his eyes from searching Cas out though.  
  
“Yeah, it is.”  
  
They lay there in silence for several minutes, just watching the stars and breathing in the fresh air. Dean glances periodically over at Cas, worried he might’ve fallen asleep but he’s very much awake. In fact, it looks like there are about a hundred different thoughts running through his mind.  
  
He catches the corner of Castiel’s mouth downturn, eyebrows furrowed. Something is clearly troubling him.  
  
“Hey, you okay?”  
  
Castiel turns his head for a moment to meet his gaze through the darkness but then looks away. “Yes- I mean… I’m fine.”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes. “Bullshit. You know, you’re a terrible li-“  
  
“Do you still like Jo?” Castiel blurts out and Dean halts his words.  
  
A silence builds between them as Dean processes the question. “Um, what?”  
  
“Do you still have feelings for Jo?” Castiel clarifies impatiently.  
  
Dean scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. Where the hell did that come from? “What makes you…” And then it dawns on him. Someone told Cas.  
  
“Did someone fucking say something to you about her and I?” Now he’s mad. He didn’t want that stuff brought up again and he certainly didn’t want Cas to know about it.  
  
Castiel hesitates but surrenders his denials. “Yes.”  
  
Dean sits up, rubbing a hand down his face. This is not what he wanted because now Castiel is going to be breathing down his neck about whether or not this affects their stupid deal. “Well, I don’t know how much they told you but it was nothing.”  
  
Castiel laughs dryly, sitting up too. “Now who’s the terrible liar? I know about the proposal, Dean. I know how the relationship started and I know how it ended. I know everything.”  
  
He swallows, fuming on the inside. “Who told you?”  
  
“Jo.”  
  
He laughs at this. He can’t even be completely mad at Jo because it’s not like he can police her on what she tells anyone. She was just as much in the relationship as he was. And knowing the nosey bastard Cas is, he asked her about it since he got all concerned that first night.  
  
“Well isn’t that a damn delight.”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me, Dean?”  
  
“Why the hell would I tell you, Cas? Please tell me why I would want to describe how I thought I found someone who loved me only to realize it wasn’t real? How I was so desperate to make it work that I just proposed out of the fucking blue and got rejected? Or maybe how I thought I’d lost one of the best friends I ever had growing up? I’m sorry, Cas- I didn’t realize you’d be so interested in hearing how I’m the poison people need to suck out of their lives.”  
  
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, taking deep breaths to calm himself down because if he doesn’t, tears will most certainly come.  
  
Cas doesn’t respond and it irritates Dean. “What do you care anyway?”  
  
He huffs. “I care because- you know very well if we can’t pull this thing off, we’ll both be in serious trouble. I need you to be focused. Besides, you’re the one who’s been telling me to not pull the closed-off shit and here you are, withholding important information from me.”  
  
Dean winces against the words and he hopes it’s too dark for Cas to see it. He was an idiot to hope any of this meant more to him. He’s just a really good actor who is only concerned about himself.  
  
“And you never answered my question.”  
  
He scowls, meeting Cas’ eyes. “No, I don’t have feelings for Jo. Do I miss her? Absolutely. But it’s not my ex that I miss- it’s my friend. The girl I grew up with and rode bikes with and snuck sips of alcohol at The Roadhouse with.”  
  
He’s not sure if he sees it right, but Castiel’s tense shoulders relax a hair. “Then this argument was pointless.”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m so glad we established that then.”  
  
Castiel flashes him a look at the sarcastic comment. “Dean, whether you believe me or not, I’m not trying to be an asshole. I just want you to be honest.”  
  
Dean sighs, looking back up at the sky. Cas is right. He really doesn’t have feelings for Jo anymore, so why did he want to keep it from him so bad?  
  
Maybe he just couldn’t bear the thought of Castiel laughing at him about something so personal. It’s one thing for the guy to rip into him at work, but who he is as a person and his life? That would hurt. And maybe before, he just didn’t want to let an asshole like Castiel in on his personal life, but now? It’s different.  
  
Now, he actually cares what Cas thinks of him- wants to hide away the ugly parts of himself because he can’t handle Cas seeing him for who he really is. His failures. His let downs. His disappointments.  
  
The sounds of summer night fill the air in a soft cadence, but it’s still a deafening silence between them with Dean’s mind racing with too many thoughts. He traces their journey that’s led them to this point, but somehow through all of it, his mind settles on one detail that makes his curiosity flare dangerously. That moment from the night before- the thing on both of Cas’ biceps.  
  
As much as he shouldn’t want to, he’s dying to know what that’s all about. If there’s anything he wants to walk away knowing about Cas, it’s those marks. And since this is apparently honesty hour, he might as well get his answer.  
  
“I noticed you had something on your arms last night.” He glances to Cas who begins picking at the blades of grass beside him, snorting quietly and shaking his head.  
  
“You saw that, huh?”  
  
“Sure did. What is it- a tattoo or something?”  
  
“Yes, actually.”  
  
He waits for more explanation but Cas isn’t sharing, so he prompts him again. “I thought you got it removed. Or did you have more than one?”  
  
Castiel keeps his eyes on the grass. “No, just the one. I was going to get it removed, but when I went to the appointment, I… I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it.”  
  
Dean’s about to crack a half-hearted joke to lighten the mood- because really, how did things get so heavy between them in a matter of fifteen minutes?- but one look at Cas’ troubled face stops him. It must have an emotional story behind it.  
  
“Uh, do you wanna walk down to the pier? We can dip our feet in the water or something.”  
  
He really doesn’t want to fight with Cas and he certainly doesn’t want to end their night like this. He wants to spend the rest of the weekend as any other happy couple would. He wants to savor every moment here because when they return to Chicago, it’ll be back to before, except worse because now Dean’s feeling stuff. Plus, he really hates that downtrodden look on Cas’ face.  
  
Castiel nods and gets to his feet before pulling Dean to his.  
  
Neither of them takes up a particularly quick pace in making their way towards the lengthy pier. They just take it one step at a time, walking in silence before Castiel breaks it. “I was in a car accident when I was sixteen.”  
  
Dean throws him a side glance, shocked at the confession. He’d assumed Cas wouldn’t want to talk about it and he was preparing himself for the never ending curiosity. “You were?”  
  
“Yes. I was in the car with…” A shaky breath. “With my brother, Michael.”  
  
“So you have two brothers?”  
  
His throat bobs as he appears to swallow thickly, keeping his eyes forward. “Not anymore, no.”  
  
Then Dean realizes. “Oh… Shit, I’m sorry, Cas…”  
  
He doesn’t acknowledge the apology. “I never met my mother. She died when I was too young to remember her. And my dad… well, it’s safe to say I never really knew him either. He was barely around when I grew up- always writing and drinking if he wasn’t passed out on the couch. Then one day, he went out to God knows where and never came home. I was twelve when he left us.”  
  
Dean frowns because he knows what it’s like to grow up without his mother being there, to have a father that struggles to get through each day. At least John never abandoned them though. Just the opposite. “I kind of know the feeling,” he offers weakly in comfort but it’s like Cas is in his own world and he continues talking seemingly to himself.  
  
“We were all lost. How do you cope with a parent just leaving like that? He just… left. No note, no phone call. Nothing. We all handled it our own way. Michael dedicated himself to work and going to school to be an architect and I took up drawing. But it was too much for Gabriel, I guess. He ran away- just decided to travel wherever the wind took him,” Castiel laughs although there’s no humor in it.  
  
His eyebrows go up. "Michael studied architecture?"  
  
Castiel nods. "He's the reason I became interested in the profession." A sadness glazes over his eyes and Dean decides to stray from that topic.  
  
“How old was Gabriel when he ran away?” Dean’s not sure whether to be impressed by this and the question seems to pulls Castiel out of his haze.  
  
“Sixteen. And don’t ask me how he got around. Knowing Gabriel though, he tricked and schmoozed his way around the world. I guess what works, works.”  
  
Dean snorts. “Guy seems to know how to work people.”  
  
They reach the pier, the wooden boards creaking uncertainly underneath their footsteps. They kick off their shoes and roll up their pants before sitting side by side at the end, dangling their feet off the edge so that the lazy waves lapped around their ankles.  
  
“That he does. Then it was just Michael and I. Michael was the eldest- eighteen when our father left. He basically raised me for the next four years. We kept in touch with Gabriel once he decided to come out of hiding a year after his disappearance, but we really wanted him back home. It took the next three years before he agreed. He promised he would move back until I graduated high school at least,” a vague smile lifts the corner of Castiel’s mouth, but Dean doesn’t interrupt.  
  
“And things were finally looking good for the three of us- we could be a family again for the first time since our father left.” The smile melts as soon as it came. “But the night before Gabriel was supposed to come home, he called to tell us he got an opportunity to travel to Europe. He wasn’t coming back.”  
  
Dean frowns, keeping his eyes on the shimmering water that reflects the clear, blanket of stars above them perfectly.  
  
“I was upset, to say the least.”  
  
“I would be too,” Dean murmurs.  
  
“So I did something stupid.” Dean glances at Cas to see him with his eyes lowered and shaking his head. “I was just… so stupid.”  
  
“What did you do, Cas?” he asks softly.  
  
Castiel takes a shaky breath. “I ran away. I couldn’t bear the thought that first our father left us, and then Gabriel. I knew neither would ever come back because who would want to return to our pathetic excuse for a family? I was so tired of people leaving. I couldn’t take it anymore. And I thought maybe Gabriel was onto something- leave before you get left. So that’s what I did. I packed a bag and got a friend from school to drive me to the bus station. The only bus with tickets available was at 11:15 that night, so I sat at there all evening. Michael kept calling but I ignored him. I knew he’d be furious with me…” Castiel trails off and Dean looks over to see his lip quivering.  
  
He reaches out a hand to rub his back and Castiel leans into the touch. “Hey, you don’t have to say anymore. It’s okay.”  
  
Castiel scrubs a hand down his face. “This is ridiculous that I’m getting emotional over this. It’s been so long since…”  
  
Dean debates whether he should offer more comfort to Cas. Would it be weird? He really wants to… He can’t just sit by and watch him break down with so much as a pat on the back. Goddammit, he wants to just _hold_ him.  
  
Fuck it. What’s he got to lose anyway?  
  
He pulls Cas close- not pulling him into his lap because that would probably be crossing a line- against his side with his arm securely around his shoulders, thumb rubbing his bicep soothingly.  
  
“It’s not ridiculous, Cas.”  
  
Castiel’s glassy blue eyes flicker up at him. “What do you mean?”  
  
Dean sighs. “There’s no moving on after someone you love disappears. I know how it is.”  
  
“Your mother?”  
  
He nods, staring out into the center of the lake. “Yeah… Dad too.”  
  
Castiel is quiet for a moment. “You’re father left too?”  
  
Dean shakes his head. “Not physically. But he wasn’t the same after Mom died. He would go through periods of anger and sadness and became overly protect of Sam and I. Didn’t want us going anywhere. If you thought the other night was bad, you should’ve seen when Sam told him he wanted to go to Stanford. He just wasn’t the same Dad I remembered when Mom was around. He used to carry me on his shoulders and laugh and take me fishing.”  
  
Dean can’t help but smile at the memories but it fades when he thinks of the night he left just over two years ago. “Ever since I decided to stop blindly following his orders, all I did was disappoint him. To him, I’m just one big fuck up after another and…” He laughs dryly. “The night I left, he made it damn clear I wasn’t his son anymore. I wasn’t staying and carrying on the 'family business', I wasn’t gonna marry Jo and live happily ever after. I wasn’t what he wanted me to be. And I didn’t hear from him for two years.”  
  
“That’s terrible,” Cas murmurs, shaking his head softly. “You certainly don’t deserve the pressure your father puts on you. You do so much for everyone else, Dean…”  
  
He shrugs, offering him a bitter smile. “That’s life though, right? It doesn’t give two shits about chewing you up and spitting you out.”  
  
Castiel snorts. “It appears so. But what happened to Michael- that was my fault.”  
  
Dean shakes his head firmly. “No way. You can’t place that on yourself.”  
  
Castiel scoots away from his grasp, Dean’s arm falling limply back at his side. “Yes I can, Dean. I’m not just wallowing in self-pity. If I hadn’t run away, I would’ve never changed my mind and called him to pick me up. We would’ve never been in the car, on _that_ road at _that_ time. We would’ve never been slammed head on by some drunk driver. And Michael wouldn’t have been crushed in the driver’s seat. He was dead before the paramedics even got there… and it’s all my fault…”  
  
Dean’s quiet, unsure what to say. What’s the best way to comfort someone who thinks they’re responsible for a death? There’s no good way because there’s no comforting them. He knows.  
  
Castiel startles him by laughing hysterically. “And the best part is how I blamed Gabriel for everything! He cancelled his stupid trip to come home and I resented him for everything. And then when he stayed to take care of me, I fucking upped and left. I didn’t return his calls or give any explanation. How fucking great of me to do. No wonder everyone thinks I’m despicable… because I am, Dean. I have been since I was sixteen.”  
  
That’s it. Dean’s had it. He can’t stand hearing Cas tear himself down one more time. “Okay, enough.” He grabs Castiel’s chin and turns it, forcing him to look him in the eyes.  
  
“De-” Castiel tries to talk but Dean’s hand doesn’t allow him to say anything audible.  
  
“Just shut the hell up, Cas. Listen to me. You were only a child. You aren’t perfect and mistakes happen. You can’t spend the rest of your life tearing yourself down, okay?” Dean feels stupid for feeling so strongly about this, but he just can’t stand for Cas to look like this, to hate himself so much.  
  
Castiel holds his gaze and relents, yanking his chin free and staring out over the water. “Perhaps you should follow your own advice.”  
  
Dean raises his eyebrows, taken aback. “What?”  
  
Castiel laughs. “Come on, Dean. You called yourself poison earlier. I think you qualify for your own advice.”  
  
He scoffs. “Whatever.”  
  
Cas still has a smile on his face and Dean nudges his shoulder, a smile the last thing he’s expecting after all this deep shit. “What’re you smiling about?”  
  
Castiel glances at him. “I just think it’s funny… Who knew we would be so much alike?”  
  
Dean considers his words and grins softly himself. “Are you saying we’re both a couple of dumbasses?”  
  
He shrugs. “More or less.”  
  
Dean chuckles, returning his gaze out to the darkness of the lake. They sit wordlessly for a while, gently kicking their feet in the lake.  
  
How in the hell did they get here? Never in a million years did Dean think he’d be here, feet dangling in a lake in the middle of the night, watching stars and revealing the things he’s kept locked away and close to his heart to Castiel Novak, of all people.  
He glances over at Cas, whose eyes are already trained on him. He should probably be unnerved by it, but he’s not. He’s intrigued with, through the dark, just how wide Castiel’s pupils have dilated. Dean lets his eyes flicker down to Cas’ mouth when he licks his lips ever so softly. And fuck if it’s not the most arousing thing.  
  
A strong sensation to close the gap and kiss those stupid lips overwhelms Dean. His fingers practically ache from not being able to reach out and pull Cas close again or stroke a hand down his cheek. He needs to get this under control because that isn’t what Cas wants. They both agreed sex complicates things, so what they did last night was a one-time thing. Besides, Cas regretted it immediately and Dean can’t handle that regret a second time.  
  
He clears his throat, looking away from Cas because if he stares any longer into those wide eyes, he might just give in to every ounce of temptation boiling under his skin.  
  
“Maybe we should go to bed.” He hates how his voice is only a rough whisper.  
  
Castiel is quiet for a moment before getting to his feet. “Yes, you’re right.”  
  
Dean stifles a disappointed sigh and gets up only to curse loudly as he plunges face first into the lake.  
  
The coolness of the water stuns him for a moment before he pieces together what just happened and he kicks off the bottom of the lake, resurfacing with a loud gasp for air while the disturbed water laps around his shoulders.  
  
Once he catches his breath, mostly out of shock than from the water, he looks up at the pier to see Castiel standing there in the most pathetic attempt to hide a smile and pretending to be oblivious.  
  
“What the hell was that, Cas?” Dean growls, rubbing the water from his eyes.  
  
Cas finally looks down at him and the biggest smile breaks out across his face. “Oh Dean, what are you doing in the lake? You’re not even in proper swim attire.”  
  
“You fucking asshole,” Dean accuses but he’s laughing. “You better watch yourself, Castiel. I’ll get my revenge, don’t you worry.”  
  
Cas throws his head back in a laugh that shakes his whole body, clearly enjoying his little prank. Dean scowls but then sees the perfect opportunity for instant revenge. He swims for the ladder attached to the pier and climbs out of the water.  
  
The splashing causes Cas to bring his attention back to Dean but it’s too late. Dean wraps his arms around him before throwing them both off the pier with a big splash.  
  
When they both resurface, Castiel gasps for air, turning to face Dean with wide eyes.  
  
“Dean!”  
  
He smirks. “I warned ya, didn’t I?”  
  
“I didn’t _mean_ to push you in! It was an accident!”  
  
Laughter sputters out of him at Cas’ weak excuse. “Yeah, that’s why you were giggling like a damn school girl up there.”  
  
Cas rolls his eyes but his attempt to look annoyed is futile because his lips are twitching from trying to hold off another smile. He must see the smugness on Dean’s face and because then he skids a hand across the surface of the water, spraying Dean with droplets.  
  
“Oh, you really don’t want to start a splash war with me,” he warns.  
  
Castiel smirks. “Is that so?”  
  
They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, sizing each other up before Dean sends a wave of water at him, thoroughly soaking him.  
  
Cas retaliates with a bunch of quick jabs against the surface, keeping a constant spray on Dean so that he can barely keep his eyes open without droplets blurring his vision. He lunges forward and grabs Castiel’s hands, successfully disarming him.  
  
“Hey!” Cas tries to yank himself free from Dean’s grip but he has Cas’ wrists secured tightly in his hands.  
  
Dean smiles at him, holding him steady. “I win.”  
  
“You cheated.”  
  
“Did not.”  
  
“Bullshit.”  
  
Dean keeps his eyes trained on Cas’, refusing to give in. He actually feels the air around them change- the challenging, playful vibe fading to pure tension- but not the bad kind. He’s overwhelmed with being so close to Cas, whose lips are just mere inches away. The same lips he was staring at just moments ago.  
  
And then Cas does the thing that pushes Dean over the edge. He licks away a drop of water that rolls over his mouth and the sight of it is too irresistible. He leans forward and brushes his lips against Cas’ experimentally before pressing them into a soft kiss.  
  
For a fleeting moment, Dean feels Cas press back against him but then he pulls back and turns his head away, eyes lowered.  
  
“Dean…” His voice is barely a whisper and Dean knows he’s over stepped. Cas didn’t want this and he just fucked it up.  
  
He lets out a shaky breath because his heart is racing just from the from the split second kiss and he releases Cas’ wrists. “Sorry.”  
  
Castiel sighs, looking back to Dean. “This is a mistake.”  
  
Dean nods despite the lurch in his stomach and he responds with a firm voice to mask the emotion that threatens to make it shake. “No, you’re right. We shouldn’t.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes flicker downward from his eyes and before Dean knows it, Cas is kissing him. Dean immediately moves his lips with Cas’, feeling the coolness against his. He lifts a hand out of the water to cup his face, realizing too late that it’s a bad idea because the moment he touches Castiel’s cheek, Cas shivers against him and Dean pulls back, dropping his hand. Besides, as much as he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, he’s beyond confused.  
  
“I thought you just said…?”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “Like you said this morning… no feelings means no regrets, right?”  
  
A lump forms in his throat. Yes, he did say that but he didn’t actually mean it- he was just trying to disguise his true feelings. And he certainly didn’t want them turned back on him. But as much as the words stab into him, he’ll take it because he wants nothing more than to hold Cas close and feel his lips against his and trace every inch of his body with his finges.  
  
He just wants _Cas_.  
  
So he smiles smoothly at him. “Exactly.”  
  
“Perhaps we should get out of here…” Castiel says, eyes flickering to the water around them and Dean chuckles.  
  
“Good idea.”  
  
They swim towards the pier and climb out, wringing their clothes and grabbing their shoes before making their way across the yard and into the house without a word.  
  
“What the hell happened to you guys?” Sam’s voice startles them both. Dean finds Sam in the kitchen, in the middle of scooping some of the fruit he bought earlier into a bowl.  
  
“Dean fell in the lake,” Cas explains and Dean flashes him a dirty look before smiling sheepishly at Sam.  
  
“Uh, yeah… I did.”  
  
Sam’s eyes flicker between them until they rest on Cas. “So why are you wet, Cas?”  
  
“Um…” Cas looks to Dean but he smirks, glancing back at Sam.  
  
“It’s a long story. Why are you still up? Thought you and Jess were exhausted.”  
  
Sam holds up the bowl of fruit. “We needed a midnight snack.”  
  
Dean snorts before grabbing Cas’ hand and pulling him towards the stairs. “Well, see you in the morning then.”  
  
Sam snickers under his breath and returns to picking through the assortment of fruit, Dean barely catching the muttered, “We won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”  
  
They quickly climb the stairs and breathe out a unison sigh of relief once they’re safely behind the closed door of their room.  
  
Dean turns his eyes on Cas, eyebrow raised. “So, I _fell_ in the lake?”  
  
Castiel shrugs. “Accidents happen.”  
  
He chuckles. “C’mon Cas, accidents don’t happen accidentally.”  
  
Cas squints his eyes, head tilting at the contradicting statement and Dean wants to slap himself for thinking how adorable it is. He’s brought back to his senses when a shiver rips through Cas’ body. Dean closes the space between them and takes Cas’ chilled hand in his.  
  
“Let’s warm up, shall we?”  
  
He hears Cas’ breath catch in his throat and all he can seem do is nod, to Dean’s amusement. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Cas’ lips, which is returned just as softly. He brings his free hand to the side of Castiel’s face, still earning a small tremble but this time Dean keeps it in place, stroking his thumb gently down his cheek.  
  
Castiel’s shaky fingers move to unbutton Dean’s dark dress shirt that he’d thrown on per Sam’s request for the rehearsal dinner and he shrugs out of the wet fabric once Cas works it open, hearing it land somewhere nearby with a wet thud. He shudders as Cas’ chilled fingertips trail down his chest and he smiles against Dean’s lips. “Someone’s a little cold.”  
  
“I wonder why that could be,” Dean hums, pulling back to look at him. Cas just smirks, rubbing his hands down Dean’s chest then back up and around his shoulders. Dean exhales under the touch, the friction between their skin chasing away the coolness.  
  
Dean puts his focus on Cas’ clothes, gingerly sliding his blazer off his shoulders. His now only-slightly-numb fingers tackle each of the buttons on his shirt one by one before tossing the wet thing to the side next. He runs his hands down Cas’ arms, reconnecting their lips, this time a little hungrier.  
  
Castiel parts his lips under Dean’s and he slips his tongue past them, moaning quietly at the touch of Castiel’s tongue meeting his and he’s practically melting into the kiss. Warmth spreads through his body that chases away the last traces of coldness.  
  
Dean carefully backs Castiel up until his legs hit the bed and he falls backwards on it. Dean smirks down at him, rather enjoying the sight of Cas on his back and staring up at him with those wide, lust blown eyes, lips parted and chest heaving ever so slightly for air.  
  
Castiel scooches towards the center of the bed and Dean crawls on after him, stopping once his body is hovering over Cas’ and he dips his head down to reconnect their lips. Castiel’s hands go to work exploring every inch of his shoulders, his chest and he even strays one hand up to card his fingers through Dean’s damp hair.  
  
Dean gradually strays from Cas’ mouth, laying soft kisses along his jaw line and down his neck.  
  
“Dean,” Cas breathes out, voice sodden with desire.  
  
Dean grins against his throat before trailing his tongue lightly up to his jaw and Cas inhales sharply beneath him. Dean’s hand traces down Castiel’s chest until they meet the clasp of his pants and he hesitates, pulling back to look questioningly at him.  
  
Castiel’s eyes wander to his and he gives a small nod. “Go ahead.”  
  
Dean smiles, leaning down to kiss the corner of Cas’ mouth before sitting back and easing him out of the damp pants, tossing them to the floor. He takes in the sight of Cas’ hard cock under the thin fabric of his boxers. Last night, through his intoxicated mind, he was longing to see all of Cas and make him feel as good as he made Dean feel, but he never got the opportunity.  
  
Now’s his chance.  
  
He slips his fingertips under the waistband and pulls them off in one fluid motion, allowing them to join the rest of their clothes on the floor. He sits back just enough to take in the view of a completely naked Castiel, his stiff cock pressed flat against his stomach. Just looking at Cas like this, completely exposed for him, makes his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest and his own cock presses desperately against the confines of his pants.  
  
Cas shifts uneasily beneath him and Dean guesses Castiel probably hasn’t let himself be this vulnerable to someone in a long time, so he snaps himself out of his trance. He dips down, swirling the tip of his tongue experimentally around the head of Cas’ cock, avoiding the bead of precome for now.  
  
Castiel groans quietly, leaning his head back into the pillows. Dean runs his tongue down the side of the shaft, moving his hand to the tip of Cas’ cock and spreading the precome with his thumb. He makes his way back to the tip, giving Cas small kisses along the way before wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking lightly.  
  
“Oh fuck,” Castiel hisses under his breath, back arching off the bed before he lifts head to watch Dean take him in. Their gazes lock together as he takes more of Cas’ cock into his mouth. Castiel’s jaw slackens as Dean begins working his mouth up and down, his tongue alternating between running along the underside and swirling around the tip.  
  
When he takes Cas’ cock all the way into his mouth until it presses against the back of his throat, nose buried into his pelvis, he hums and Cas moans from the vibrations, hands working their way through Dean’s hair. “Fuck, Dean- that feels so good.”  
  
Dean releases him with a small pop- grateful he managed to keep his gag reflex under control since it's certainly been awhile- and strokes him, lifting his head to kiss Cas who meets him hungrily, tongue eager to explore Dean’s mouth.  
  
When Dean finally pulls back to take a breath- because fuck, Cas is truly taking his breath away right now- Castiel motions to his pants. “Those need to go.” Dean chuckles but complies. He’s pulling them off when Cas wiggles his way from under Dean and rolls off the bed.  
  
“Cas?” Dean looks up after tossing his pants to the floor, falling silent when his eyes land on Castiel’s back. His breath catches in his throat and all he can do is stare while Cas digs through his bag and a couple seconds later, he turns around and meets Dean’s eyes.  
  
He must realize what he did and his eyes flicker away as he returns to the bed. “I, uh, I brought stuff… On the off chance this might happen.” Cas drops a bottle of lube and a condom packet on the bed, avoiding Dean’s gaze.  
  
“Cas…” Dean breathes, unable to tear his eyes away from him. He doesn’t even care about the lube and condom right now.  
  
Castiel looks shyly up at him but then frowns, guarded eyes becoming angry, though not necessarily at Dean. “You shouldn’t have seen that. It’s… distasteful.”  
  
Dean stares at him incredulously, hating the slight professional tone he’s taken up because that means Cas is closing off. Dean’s noticed Castiel hides behind his professional persona, and he can’t stand for him to hide away now.  
  
“How can you say that?” he demands, eyes wandering to a bicep where he can see the tip of the black ink. Now it makes sense.  
  
“Because that’s what it is, Dean. It represents all of my failures and every ugly piece of me,” Castiel says bitterly.  
  
Dean shakes his head slowly, heart aching, but he has no words right now. Instead, he pulls Castiel onto the bed and presses a tender kiss to his lips. All the tension in Castiel’s body disappears when he leans into the touch.  
  
When Dean pulls away, he lifts Cas’ chin so that their eyes meet. “Please. Let me see it, Cas.”  
  
Castiel studies him doubtfully but nods after a moment, shifting on the bed so that his back was to Dean. His mouth drops open at closer inspection.  
  
Splayed across Cas’ back is a pair of black angel wings. The tips of the wings extend down the back of his arms, curving gently around his biceps so they were barely visible from the front. Dean sweeps his gaze over the sheer detail, completely speechless at the sight.  
  
It’s beautiful. But heartbreaking.  
  
These aren’t just any pair of wings. They’re not full and fluffy and pretty in the aesthetic sense. They’re not wings that help angels fly. They’re torn up. They’re burned. They’re completely destroyed- the feathers charred and maimed so that the bones that make up the structure are exposed.  
  
They’re broken wings. Completely and utterly broken.  
  
“Cas,” Dean whispers because that’s all he can say, still taking in the marred wings.  
  
“I know. It’s ugly,” Castiel mutters.  
  
He hesitates but reaches out to brush his fingertips over the length of the right wing and Castiel flinches under the touch before relaxing slightly. Dean frowns at what he feels though. There’s soft lines in the skin that aren’t smoothed like the rest. Dean squints, studying them carefully before then he finally sees what they are. Real scars. Jagged, long lines that crisscross over his back with smaller ones dotted around them.  
  
Dean traces his finger along a relatively large scar, noting how one of the exposed bones that make up the left wing has been inked over it.  
  
“Are these from the accident?” Dean murmurs, still moving his hands delicately across Cas’ back.  
  
Castiel takes a shaky breath. “Yes. I… When we got hit, I was ejected from the car. The windshield cut into me and I landed in some of the glass. It was summer and I wasn’t wearing a jacket or anything… Just some t-shirt that got shredded. The doctors said I was lucky I wasn’t paralyzed.”  
  
Dean nods even though it goes unnoticed. “It’s not ugly, Cas.”  
  
Castiel chuckles darkly under his breath. “It’s okay, Dean. These wings- they’re just reminders of everything I’ve lost. They weren’t meant to be beautiful. I wanted them to be as ugly as possible. I mean, I was completely drunk and alone when I got them so that was my rationale at the time, which I now have to live with.”  
  
Dean hesitantly leans forward and presses his lips gently against a burning feather and it triggers a choked sound from Cas. Dean kisses his way up Cas’ back before wrapping his arms around him and hugging him close to his chest.  
  
“I think they’re beautiful.”  
  
Cas snorts softly but doesn’t respond. Dean knows Cas doesn’t believe him one bit and he may never believe him, which is unfortunate.  
  
But then again, he’s just Castiel’s assistant. He’s just Dean.  
  
He shifts his gaze to the lube and condom next to them on the bed and the corner of his mouth lifts. “You’re prepared this time.” He hopes it’s enough of a distraction for Cas. He wants to take away his pain and just make him feel good, that is if he still even wants this.  
  
Castiel ducks his head and Dean knows there’s a bright blush coloring his cheeks, which makes him smile even wider.  
  
“It was in case we got really drunk again.”  
  
“When did you get these anyway?”  
  
The tips of Cas’ ears darken and if Dean flicked the light on, they’d probably be the deepest shade of red he’s ever seen on a person. “While you and Jess were shopping for groceries earlier, Sam let me use his car.”  
  
Dean chuckles and kisses Cas’ neck, which earns him a sigh in response. Castiel shifts so that they’re facing each other once more and his hand trails down Dean’s chest before wrapping his fingers around his still hard cock.  
  
Dean sputters out a breath, head falling back at the touch. Castiel snickers and begins to slowly stroke him, thumb smearing his precome across the tip. “Does that feel good, Dean?”  
  
He hums. “So good.”  
  
“Lay down,” Castiel commands and Dean obeys. He watches Cas settle himself between his legs and sucks in a breath at the first touch of Cas’ mouth on his cock.  
  
“Fuck,” he breathes, torn between wanting to throw his head back into the blankets and watch Cas’ pink lips curl around him. It feels so much better than the night before- Dean didn't realize it was possible. He cards his fingers through Cas’ damp hair and moans loudly when Cas takes more of him until he feels his cock nudge the back of his throat, making him squeeze his eyes shut and toss his bed back.  
  
“Holy shit, Cas,” he groans, his other hand tangling in the sheets. Who knew Castiel fucking Novak could deep throat? If he keeps this up, Dean’s not sure that he’ll make it long.  
  
Castiel hums around his cock, which only intensifies the sensations and Dean lifts his head to watch again. He exhales shakily when he sees one of Cas’ hands stroking himself and it’s so insanely hot. But he also can’t stand for this. Tonight, he’s going to make Cas feel as good as he made him feel the night before.  
  
Dean gently pushes against Cas’ shoulder and just as Cas is about to complain, Dean cups his cheek and brings their lips together, their tongues mingling with shaky breaths exchanged. Dean traces the shape of Cas’ parted lips with his tongue and rests his forehead against his, staring into those captivating blue eyes.  
  
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Cas,” he whispers and Cas answers him by giving him another tender kiss.  
  
“ _Please_.”  
  
Dean grins and presses one last kiss to Cas’ lips before pushing him softly into the mattress, their eyes never parting. Dean plants soft kisses against the hollow of his throat while he grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes a glob of it on his fingers.  
  
He makes sure his fingers are thoroughly coated before bringing them to Cas’ entrance and massaging the tight muscle.  
  
Cas groans at the touch, wiggling in anticipation beneath him. “Dean please don’t te-“ he starts to say but cuts himself off with a gasp when Dean pushes one finger inside him.  
  
He kisses his way to Cas’ lips, grinning against them. “What was that?”  
  
Cas just moans, hands feeling their way up Dean’s back and he smirks, slowly moving his finger back and forth. Shit, Cas is so fucking tight. He’s not sure how he’ll be able to hold it together when he’s ready for all of him.  
  
Once Dean feels Cas has adjusted to one finger, he starts to nudge a second in, but Cas tenses up. Dean moves slowly, worried that he might hurt him, but the son of a bitch isn’t allowing himself to open up.  
  
“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean whispers against his lips. “It’s okay, I got you. I won’t hurt you.”  
  
He lets out a shaky breath, arms tightening around Dean’s neck. “I know… just…” He pauses, as if unsure of himself. “Promise?”  
  
Dean pulls back to stare into those guarded blue eyes. Fuck, if he’s not the most beautiful soul he’s ever seen.  
  
This is Cas. Not the asshole with ice where his heart should be, who barks out orders and could care less about anyone’s feelings- always keeping a concrete wall between himself and the world. This is Cas. A lost soul- no- an _angel_ who’s scared to fall, who’s wings have become so ruined that he may never fly again. And he’s terrified. He’s so unbelievably scared to tear down that wall and let people in. But Dean will be there for him until the day he walks out of his life forever. It may be sooner rather than later, but he will be there.  
  
“I promise, Cas.”  
  
A small sigh escapes Cas’ parted lips and he nods. Dean feels him relax around his fingers and Castiel opens up beautifully. Dean leans down to reconnect their lips as his fingers continue to work and scissor him open. He must’ve brushed Cas’ prostate because he’s suddenly gasping, nails digging into Dean’s back.  
  
“Dean, fuck! Right there!”  
  
Dean chuckles and slides his fingers out, Cas whimpering. “Nope, not yet.” He grabs the condom packet beside him and tears it open with his teeth before sliding it over his throbbing cock. He grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes it over his shaft, making sure every bit of him is coated before positioning himself over Cas again.  
  
“Tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?”  
  
Cas nods, eyes never straying from Dean’s. “Okay.”  
  
Dean kisses him once more before slowly pressing forward, groaning at the tightness. “Holy _shit_ , Cas.”  
  
A moan escapes Cas’ throat the deeper Dean sinks into him. “So good, Dean. Feels so good.”  
  
Dean pushes his way in until Cas has taken all of him, his pelvis pressed flesh against Cas’ ass. He freezes, trying not to come right then and there because _fuck_ , Cas is so tight around him and the soft moans dripping from those beautiful lips are doing Dean’s cock no favors.  
  
But he has to move. He slowly starts to rock his hips, throwing his head back at the sensation. Once he feels he’s gotten a grip on himself, he gradually speeds up his thrusts, relishing in the sound of their skin smacking together mixed with Cas’ heavy pants and the little noises that fill the room with each thrust.  
  
“So fucking beautiful, Cas,” he grunts, stroking Cas’ cheek and feeling the rough stubble scratch at the pad of his thumb. When he angles himself differently, a loud gasp escapes Cas, his nails digging deep into Dean’s shoulder blades.  
  
“Fuck! Dean, right fucking there!”  
  
Dean doesn’t falter in his rhythm, panting out breathy moans and trying to hold on as long as he can, but he’s so fucking close. “C-Cas, I’m so-“ he’s cut off as Cas shouts out his name, body trembling as he comes hard, white spurts coating his stomach and it drives Dean over the edge; the way Cas’ face is contorted in pure bliss, the way he moans Dean’s name through his orgasm and the way his lust blown eyes watch him through the entire damn thing.  
  
Dean pulls out and rips off the condom just as he comes himself, adding to the white artwork Cas has already painted on his stomach. He shudders when Castiel reaches forward to stroke him through his release, throwing his head back and whimpering to the ceiling.  
  
“Fuck Cas,” Dean pants until he’s completely drained and left feeling way too sensitive, Cas’ gentle fingers doing him no favors. He flops down beside him, both of their chests heaving for air.  
  
“That was good,” Cas murmurs between pants and a smile stretches across Dean’s face.  
  
“Yeah, it really was.”  
  
He rolls over to look at Castiel, taking in the sex hair and flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Damn, he’s breathtaking. They lay like that for a few minutes, slowly regaining their breath and staring into each other’s eyes. And Dean knows he’s fucked. He feels so much for Cas, it’s practically suffocating him.  
  
He glances down, eyes landing on the tip of Cas’ wings that’s poking out from the back of his arm and something clicks in his mind.  
  
_Angels are watching over you._  
  
What his mother used to tell him all the time… and here is one right next to him. Sure, Cas isn’t actually an angel, but it’s enough to make a lump form in Dean’s throat. What are the odds that the man he is currently losing himself to would have a fucking tattoo of angel wings? The representation of the same thing that his mother always comforted him with. It’s too much to handle.  
  
He scoots off the bed, the sheets rustling behind him as Cas sits up.  
  
“Dean? Is something wrong?”  
  
He shakes his head. “I’m… Let’s get you cleaned up.” He walks to the attached bathroom and fetches a washcloth, running the warm water just to stall enough so he can get himself under control again. He’s not going to cry over some stupid coincidence. It can’t mean anything. It’s just a funny accident. Although…  
  
He shakes his head again, soaking the cloth and wringing it out before walking back into the bedroom. He crawls on the bed and begins gingerly wiping away the evidence of their activity, almost trying to erase each moment from his mind because he’s already hurting from it. This isn’t going to end well. He knows it.  
  
But as hard as he tries, he can’t let them go.  
  
“Dean, did I do something wrong?”  
  
His eyes flicker up to Cas’ and he almost wants to laugh at how concerned he looks. Probably worried he might’ve taken the sex the wrong way. It was supposed to be meaningless, after all.  
  
“My mother… she died in a fire when I was four.” Whoa, why is he telling him this?  
  
Castiel frowns. “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
He shrugs, but the confession of his mother’s death throws him back in time and he feels trapped in that nightmare all over again. “You said earlier how you felt ridiculous for still holding on to the loss after so many years but… I understand.”  
  
Dean keeps his eyes focused on Castiel’s stomach and his cleaning- not wanting to see the pity that’s sure to be in those blue eyes right now. “I… I can still hear her screams, Cas. I still smell the smoke and feel the heat of the flames. And I still have nightmares of my dad handing me Sammy and telling me to take him out outside as fast as I can… And it’s my fault she’s gone.”  
  
Castiel tilts his chin upwards. “Dean, there’s nothing you could’ve done. If you stayed, you would’ve died too. Sam- your brother- would he have made it out? You _saved_ him, Dean.”  
  
Dean bites his lip. “It was late- probably midnight- and I had a nightmare and couldn't go back to sleep. The only thing I wanted was one of her pies. I guess after she put it in the oven, she fell asleep on the couch… The fire alarm never went off.” Emotion builds in his chest, threatening to rip its way out. “If I didn’t ask her to make that stupid fucking pie…”  
  
“You were four. How could you have known?”  
  
“I dunno, but I should’ve just let her go to bed.”  
  
“You’re not to blame for her death, Dean. It’s not your fault.”  
  
Dean scoffs, tearing his chin free and focusing again on his cleaning, even though there’s nothing left to wipe away now.  
  
Castiel sighs, sounding impatient and he tilts Dean’s chin up again, but this time gives Dean a long, tender kiss which makes Dean melt into him. He feels so overwhelmed he can’t even hold himself upright anymore, body trembling from everything being bottled up inside.  
  
When Cas pulls away, he simply leans his forehead against Dean’s. “C’mon, we should get some sleep.”  
  
Dean nods, tossing the rag on the pile of clothes on the floor and they wiggle their way under the covers.  
  
Neither of them is sure how they’re supposed to sleep though- together or separated? They silently agree on being apart, rolling on their sides so that their backs were to each other.  
  
Dean stares into the darkness, his eyes not feeling heavy one bit. His mind is too busy racing with a million thoughts- about his mother, about his father, about Sam, and especially about Cas.  
  
He’s hesitant to call it love because there’s no way he could be in love with Castiel. Not at all. But… it’s different from what he felt with Jo and even Aaron all those years ago. He’d thought he at least felt love with Jo but after they broke up, he realized that it was indeed love, but he wasn’t _in_ love. This thing with Cas… it’s so much stronger, so much more consuming.  
  
And it terrifies him. Because he knows now that he’s made himself completely vulnerable, there’s no way he’s escaping this unscathed. It’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch.  
  
But even with this knowledge, he doesn’t stop himself from rolling over and scooting closer to Cas, wrapping him arms around him and hugging himself close. It doesn’t stop the flutter in his heart when Castiel’s tense body relaxes against him.  
  
His eyes flicker across the exposed wing of Cas’ left shoulder, memorizing the charred and maimed feathers. He presses his lips softly against them and murmurs against the skin.  
  
“Goodnight, Cas.”  
  
There's the faint exhale of an unsteady breath before Cas whispers back, “Goodnight, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah.  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel hums at the brush of Dean’s hands across his stomach, relishing his tender lips and the slight scratch of stubble against his neck. He’s breathing out Dean’s name as if it’s just as essential as the breathing itself while his heart thumps against his ribcage, a dizzy cloud floating in his head.  
  
He ignores the voice in the back of his head that urges for him to stop, that he needs to end this before it’s too late. No matter how hard he tries though, he can’t silence it completely. It just remains faint in the background as he cards his fingers through Dean’s hair, whimpering, either for more or for him to reverse their positions and have his own way with Dean. He can’t decide which he prefers more at the moment. He’ll take anything he can have.  
  
Being with Dean is like being drunk; all rationale goes out the window and his inhibitions cease to exist. This would’ve terrified him not too long ago and he would’ve immediately put a stop to it all because that’s how he used to be. Everything was black and white with nothing in between. He would’ve been able to separate emotions from logic, his heart from his mind.  
  
It’s different now.  
  
While he can still see what’s right and wrong, he’s actively choosing to ignore it all. Just like how he’s choosing to ignore the voice that’s still begging for him to listen - pleading with him to stop, to come back…  
  
Castiel stiffens in Dean’s arms, the voice becoming more prominent in his mind. He can make out the words more clearly now.  
  
“ _Castiel, please come home_.”  
  
His heart drops into his stomach and his throat constricts. No, this can’t be happening.  
  
“ _You don’t have to do this, Castiel. We can get through this together. Please, just come home_.”  
  
“No, no, no…” Castiel chokes out, scrambling from under Dean.  
  
“Cas?” Dean gives him a strange look but he continues backing away from the bed, muttering under his breath. He needs to get out of here. He’s about to run when a spot of red on Dean’s face catches his eye, causing his heart to lurch.  
  
The spot widens into a clean line across his forehead, blood trickling down from it. And Castiel runs alright. He doesn’t remember running faster in his life. But it’s not away. He runs straight to Dean, grasping his face with trembling hands.  
  
“Dean! Oh God, this can’t be happening.” His breathing picks up as panic consumes his body.  
  
“Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean asks, apparently oblivious to the blood and all the new cuts and gashes that color his beautifully freckled face.  
  
“Goddammit, don’t do this!” He screams to anyone and no one. His desperate attempts to wipe away the dripping red streaks from Dean’s face don’t help any, his fingers only leaving fresh cuts and purple bruises in their wake.  
  
He pulls Dean into his arms and holds on tight, hoping with every fiber of his being that this nightmare will end. When he pulls back to see if anything changed, he finds it has. Instead of Dean in his arms, it’s Michael. And instead of their safe, cozy bedroom at the lake house, Castiel is on that lonely, dark back road that’s flanked by forest on both sides and littered with shards of glass and metal.  
  
He cries out for help, like he does in every single nightmare. He cries out and his only response is his own voice echoed back to him.  
  
A loud bang startles him awake and he sits up, gasping for air while his eyes wildly search the room until they land on a certain pair of green eyes.  
  
“Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. The breeze caught the door,” Dean tells him, walking hesitantly towards the bed.  
  
Castiel stares at him, half expecting his face to be marked up with red lines that allow scarlet paths to be dribbled down his features. He tears his eyes away, looking to his right to see the balcony’s sliding glass door is cracked open, the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze that filters into the room. Now he realizes what Dean is referring to.  
  
“Ah, it’s fine,” he murmurs, still trying to shake off the dream. He’s not sure which was worse, seeing Dean get torn up before his eyes just like Michael was, or hearing that voicemail his brother left him when he realized Castiel had run away.  
  
He listened to that voicemail for so long until he made himself delete it, but it’s still engrained in his head. The words will probably never cease to haunt him along with the guilt that accompanies it.  
  
He glances at the clock on the nightstand to see it reads 10 am. Damn, he never sleeps this late. “I needed to get up anyway.” He looks over Dean, who’s already dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt - a rather nice sight to wake up to and it calms him. It’s then he remembers that under the blankets, he’s still very much naked and it wouldn’t take too long to get Dean out of -  
  
He cuts his thoughts off right there. He drags his gaze away from Dean’s body and finally notices the small tray perched in his hands.  
  
Dean follows his gaze and his face turns a light shade of pink. “Uh, the bridal party is starting to arrive and breakfast is going fast. I wasn’t sure how long you were gonna sleep, so I snagged some food for you.”  
  
Dean leans forward to set the tray next to him and Castiel stares down at the bowl of mixed fruit, apple turnover with white icing drizzled on top and a thermos of something hot. The gesture touches Castiel’s heart but the good feelings are quickly chased away with disappointment. Dean’s used to this. He shouldn’t read into it - Dean’s brought him food plenty of times before. Old habits die hard, unless they were never supposed to die to begin with.  
  
“Thank you, Dean.”  
  
“Is everything okay? You seem kinda… I dunno…” he trails off. Castiel meets his gaze and all he can see are those horrifying marks that crisscrossed over that beautiful skin.  
  
“Yes, uh, just had a weird dream. I’m fine though.” He gives Dean a small smile, hoping it’s convincing enough. “How’s the bride and the groom this morning?” Yes, change the subject. Best call of action. Thankfully, Dean goes with it as he plops himself on the edge of the bed.  
  
“Good so far. Jess is in the master with the bridesmaids that are here so far and her mother getting ready. They’ve got pictures at noon. Sam and the guys have been keeping an eye on the setup. I told him I’d supervise so he can relax, but the son of a bitch insists he do it for Jess,” Dean laughs lightly, shaking his head.  
  
“Is that such a good idea?” Castiel wonders, remembering distinctly how Sam and all his groomsmen were during the bachelor party. He can’t imagine any of them knowing the details of where flowers and decorations go.  
  
Dean snorts, shaking his head. “Not at all. That’s why I’m down there and Charlie’s been helping too. But Sam’s really nervous and he needs something to do besides sit around and be convinced to take pre-wedding shots.”  
  
Castiel nods and for a moment, they just stare at each other. If there was ever time Castiel wished he could read minds, this would be it. After last night, he wants more than anything to see inside Dean’s head.  
  
They seem to realize what they’re doing and share an awkward laugh, Dean getting to his feet. “Well, um, enjoy your food. I made you green tea with honey because I know you like having that sometimes over coffee. Come down whenever you’re ready, okay?”  
  
“Right. Thanks again,” Castiel smiles softly at him. Dean steals a piece of his fruit and pops it in his mouth, winking at him before sauntering out of the room with the door closing behind him.  
  
Castiel gets out of bed, going to his suitcase and digging out the tube that holds all of Dean’s sketches and drawings. He walks back over to the bed, sitting cross-legged as he spills out the contents. He flips through the different sheets of tracing paper as he eats, careful to wipe his fingers before touching the thin sheets as if they were priceless works of art.  
  
His eyes flicker across the messy marker strokes, the capital letters that spell out random notes that he swears only Dean would be able to make sense of, the doodles and quick drawings in the corners of pages that he must’ve done to save his thoughts. Like a writer making random notes in their work to return to later.  
  
This isn’t what Dean submitted to him when he first gave his ideas for the project. But Castiel wanted insight to how Dean’s mind works, though he couldn’t actually ask him for it. So when Dean left work the day before they left for Lawrence, Castiel went through Dean’s desk and found all of the rough drafts and notes.  
  
He had no intention of actually taking them with, but when he realized that Bartholomew would be creeping around, unsupervised and all too eager to take Castiel’s developing projects and ideas from under him, he couldn’t leave them behind. And he would be damned if that bastard got ahold of Dean’s work, especially.  
  
Castiel had told Dean he thought the sketches were subpar for a project like Bela’s, but he was lying through his teeth. He was even relieved when Dean left his office looking dejected and hurt. It meant Dean believed him.  
  
In reality, Castiel didn’t think they were subpar at all. They were really good, as much as he wishes they weren’t. The thought of losing Dean as his assistant wasn’t one Castiel was too fond of. Sure, Dean didn’t always perform the best and got on Castiel’s nerves more often than not, but he’s shown the most potential out of any assistant he’s had in the past.  
  
And Dean has a sort of fire to him that’s always intrigued Castiel, even when it annoys him to no end. When Dean sees a challenge, he goes after it. He doesn’t give up or take no for an answer. More selfishly, Castiel felt like Dean knew him in some strange way that no one else did - he knew Castiel’s thought process and why he did what he did sometimes.  
  
Yes, Dean certainly knew him, even if it was in a more unconventional light. It felt nice to think that there’s at least one person who knows a little bit about how he operates, even if it was only from a safe distance.  
  
Which is why when Castiel first laid eyes on Dean’s work, he knew he couldn’t allow them to be seen by Metatron. With drawings like that, Dean would’ve been promoted and Castiel wasn’t ready to give him up.  
  
Originally, when he and Dean settled on the terms of their arrangement - of which he agreed to let Dean present his ideas to Metatron and Bela - Castiel knew it could mean Dean’s recognition and possibly winning Bela’s approval. If that were to happen, he couldn’t let Bartholomew get his slimy hands on them. Castiel wanted all the credit to himself.  
  
Somehow, somewhere, that’s changed. It’s not about taking credit anymore, putting his name on the reason for Dean’s success and gaining from it. It’s become solely about protecting Dean and his work.  
  
Castiel laughs at himself, shaking his head and murmuring under his breath, “Oh, what have I become?”  
  
He finishes eating and rolls the drawings back into the tube, hiding it away in his suitcase once more. He heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before stepping inside. He scrubs shampoo into his hair, trying to keep his mind from running wild but he can’t help it.  
  
Everything from the night before comes flooding back to Castiel, so much that it practically makes him dizzy.  
  
He opened up to Dean. Physically and emotionally. He showed him his tattoo and even told the story behind it. He let Dean take control - let Dean’s body do wonders to his and dammit, he’s never felt so good. A bliss settled over him that he wasn’t sure was possible to achieve.  
  
He just let himself be so open and exposed and _raw_.  
  
All of that for Dean - _because_ of Dean.  
  
And Dean… Dean opened up to him too. But what does this mean?  
  
The calculative part of Castiel’s mind struggles to add it all up, to produce some sort of black and white conclusion so he can determine the proper solution to their predicament. But he can’t. This thing with Dean has become so unbelievably messy and the lines are blurred, if not completely erased all together.  
  
A small glimmer of hope sparks in his mind though. Maybe Dean actually does care about him. Maybe Dean can see past his darkness and flaws and see the real Castiel, the one he’s kept hidden and locked away for so long, he wasn’t sure if that Castiel survived after all these years.  
  
As quickly as the spark formed in in his mind, it fades with his heart sinking. There’s just no possible way. There’s no way Dean will ever be on the same level as him. After last night, there’s not a doubt in his mind about the feelings he holds for Dean. He’s not sure what to call them exactly, but they’re strong. And they could never be reciprocated.  
  
He doesn’t deserve it anyway.  
  
Maybe there’s a chance they can actually be friends when they leave here though. Dean wouldn’t have opened up to him if he didn’t trust him on some level, right? Maybe they won’t ever have a real love and a real marriage, but they can take a shot at a real friendship.  
  
He holds onto that small hope because it’s what he needs to get through this. He’s too selfish to let Dean go completely, so this is all he can do. Though it won’t stop him from selfishly taking advantage of the expectations today has presented them with. He will seize every opportunity to kiss and hug and laugh with Dean today because it’ll all be over soon, and he’s not ready for that.  
  


*****

  
One of the skills that an architect must possess is having an eye for the little details. It’s not just worrying about the foundation, the shape, the dimensions, all the obvious, in-your-face stuff. Sure, they’re essential to the entire project and it would fail without them, but there’s so much more to it. It always seems to boil down to the smallest details that truly please a client and produce a satisfactory review or earn recommendations from. It could be as insignificant as the tiny, half-moon window that rests above a front door or flare off the peak of the roof. Such details are often easy to overlook, but to one person, it can mean everything.

That’s why Castiel _knows_ there’s something not right about this centerpiece.

Something’s off, but he can’t decide what.

He slowly circles the table, squinting at the assortment of lavender and dark purple flowers. It bothers him because Sam asked him to make sure the tables were set up correctly with the wedding favors and centerpieces before him and the other groomsmen left to dress for pictures. Castiel needed to make sure he didn’t fail the groom on his special day.

“You having a showdown with those flowers?” Dean’s voice startles him and he looks across the table at him, frowning. Not because of Dean’s teasing, but because he’s been standing here long enough for Dean to find him, walk over, _and then_ tease him about it. He should’ve noticed the imperfection by now.

“No. Something’s not right about this one.”

Dean glances at the flowers and shrugs. “Looks fine to me. They all got their petals and crap.”

The moment Dean says it, Castiel spots it. It’s hard to see because it blends in so well, but there’s a lonesome, stray stem of Forget-Me-Nots.

“There,” Castiel points to the blue flowers. “None of the other centerpieces have Forget-Me-Nots, let alone blue flowers of any kind.”

Dean chuckles, leaning over the table and plucking the flowers from the vase. “You were obsessing over this?”

Castiel scowls. “I wasn’t obsessing. Just trying to resolve the problem at hand.”

“And what if there wasn’t a problem?” Dean asks, sauntering around the table and up to Castiel. “What if it was just you?”

He narrows his eyes at Dean. “I knew there was a problem.”

“But what if?”

“There’s no if.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know, Dean,” Castiel growls, getting a little fed up with this game. Why is Dean hell bent on pushing his buttons right now? Oh yes, old habits.

Dean smirks. “Hey, no need to get all wound up. Couples shouldn’t fight at a wedding - especially one as in love as us.”

Castiel rolls his eyes but his heart flutters at Dean’s words. Right. Regardless that it’s simply a reminder for Castiel to behave, it still makes him relax hearing Dean say it. “Sorry, I just don’t want to ruin today for Sam and Jess…”

“I doubt they’ll care about a flower, Cas,” Dean points out, but there’s a soft smile on his lips. “Where’s Charlie?” Dean says suddenly, looking around for her.

He motions towards the DJ booth. “The sound system was having technical difficulties. She’s fixing it.”

He takes a moment to look Dean over while he’s distracted, taking in the sight of him in a white dress shirt, top button undone with a tie hanging loosely from his neck, tucked underneath his vest paired with black dress pants. If Dean looks this good in just his vest and pants, Castiel can’t imagine how he’ll look in the whole ensemble.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for pictures?”

Dean returns his attention back to him. “Yeah well, I wanted to check on you. I left kinda fast earlier and I haven’t seen you since and, I don’t know, I felt bad.”

Castiel feels a smile threaten to spread across his face and he bites his lip gently. “I appreciate your concern but I don’t need to be babysat.”

Dean laughs, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and shaking his head. “Okay Cas.”

Castiel’s about to turn away because he can barely contain the smile anymore when Dean thrusts his hand towards him, offering the flower and making him stop. Castiel stares at it before looking up at him with scrunched eyebrows. “What’s that for?”

“For you. To lighten you up a little.”

He snorts. “How nice of you.”

Dean sighs. “Just take it.”

Castiel stares at him for a moment before he gingerly takes the stem, heart skipping when their fingertips brush together, which is ridiculous because they’ve touched much more inappropriately than this in the last twelve hours.

“Thank you, Dean.” He hesitates but leans forward to connect their lips together in a lingering kiss. Dean’s arm twitches against him - was he going to push Castiel away? But when they part, there’s only a light tint of pink on his cheeks and he certainly doesn’t look angry.

“What was that for?”

Castiel smiles mischievously at him. “Like you said, couples are supposed to be happy at weddings, right? Especially one as in love as us?”

Dean snickers, smoothing his palms down the front of his vest and adjusting it on his body. “Exactly.”

“You better go make sure Brady isn’t trying to feed Sam any pre-wedding shots. Jess might be disappointed if her soon-to-be husband can’t make it down the aisle.”

Dean rolls his eyes but laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see you out there then. I’ll be the one standing next to the groom.”

He grins despite trying not to. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Dean hesitates and Castiel thinks he sees Dean’s eyes flicker downwards to his mouth, though he’s not sure because he’s turning on his heel now and heading for the house.

Castiel watches him go before looking down at the flower in his hands. It’s a shame these weren’t intended to be in the centerpieces. A part of him wants to place the flowers back with the others because, chances are, no one else would notice. But they’re not supposed to be there and even though, as Dean said, Sam and Jess won’t care, he can’t stand leaving something that’s clearly a mistake.

Besides, Dean gave them to him so of course he’s going to keep them for himself.

“Stealing flowers?” Charlie muses as she approaches, tearing Castiel out of his trance.

He looks up at her and the corner of his mouth lifts despite the blush that warms his face from being caught in his little daydream. “Um, no. I found them in this one. I don’t think they’re meant to be part of the arrangement.”

Charlie squints at them and smiles. “Well, looks like you’ve found yourself a shiny.”

Castiel scrunches his eyebrows at her. “A what?” There’s nothing remotely glistening about the soft petals.

She laughs. “Right, you don’t know nerd talk. In the world of Pokémon, there are these rare pokémon that are like others of their kind, but they’re special. They have different colors from the rest. It’s really a matter of luck or chance when you actually find one.”

“Oh.” Castiel looks back at the flowers. A shiny. Interesting way to look at it.

After a final look over the tables, they both retreat to their rooms to change into their formal attire. Castiel lays sets the flowers on his nightstand, wishing he had a vase to put them in, but this would have to do for now. He’s not sure what he plans to do with them just yet, but he doesn’t want to throw them out.

He changes into his suit and fusses over himself in front of the mirror longer than he plans to. His hair doesn’t seem to want to lay right, random tuffs stubbornly refusing to be tamed. And he tries to tie his tie about five times before he gives up. His brothers never taught him how to properly tie one, so every time he does, it comes out slightly crooked and sometimes backwards. It's why he rarely wears ties to work.

Maybe no one will notice.

He heads back downstairs to meet Charlie and her eyes widen when she sees him. “Hot damn, Cas! You clean up real good. Dean’s gonna devour you.”

Castiel blushes, ducking his head. “I don’t know about that. But you look beautiful yourself, Charlie. Dean mentioned you’ve been talking about a ‘mystery girl’. I’m sure if she saw you now, she’d be unable to resist you.”

This time it’s Charlie turn to blush. “Really? Because… well, she’s here tonight.”

Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up. “May I know who she is?”

Charlie bites her lip as she thinks before pulling him off to the side and away from the commotion in the house. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

He nods firmly. “I won’t breathe a word.”

She sighs gently, still not looking any less worried, and when she finally speaks, it’s a in a hushed tone. “It’s Jo.”

Castiel’s mouth drops open and she continues talking before he can say much of anything. “And I know what you’re thinking - I’m Dean’s best friend and how could I go after his ex? It’s some sort of bro code or something. But Cas,” she sighs dreamily, “She’s wonderful. When Dean left for Chicago and Sam was away at college, we were the only ones in Lawrence. We obviously knew each other through Sam and Dean, but we never really got to _know_ each other, you know? Then when it was just us, we started talking. We became good friends and it’s only recently things started getting more… serious. And Jo’s been scared to say anything because she and Dean are just starting to mend their friendship and she’s worried he’ll be upset with me so everything is a giant secret and -”

It all just spills out of her until she cuts herself off, frowning with guilt etched into her features and Castiel’s heart aches for her. He can relate to the guilt of developing feelings for someone that you’re not supposed to. He takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

“Dean won’t be upset with you, Charlie. As long as you both are happy, he’ll be happy for you.”

The corner of her mouth lifts. “You really think so?”

Castiel nods. “He cares about you both very much. I’d say the sooner you be open with him about it, the better you’ll feel.”

Charlie wraps her arms around him tightly. “Thank you, Cas. You’re the best.” Castiel hugs her back the best he can because Charlie has her arms around his shoulders and it’s difficult to return the hug properly. Her words make him feel warm and fuzzy, but he can’t help the little voice that denies them. He’s certainly not even close to being the best.

When she breaks away, there’s a smile beaming out of her. “Who knows? Hopefully we’ll both get lucky tonight.”

He simply chuckles, holding out his arm for her to take which she accepts graciously.

Castiel leads them outside and to the chairs arranged in front of the flower-laced alter. Now that everything is in place and complete, it truly looks beautiful. The lake is sparkling ahead of them, the sun shining through the white, fluffy clouds in the sky. The breeze from this morning is still prominent, but it’s pleasant- not too windy but enough to provide a cool relief from the warm, summer air.

They take their seats among the other waiting guests who speak softly to one another over the soothing music playing in the background.

It isn’t too much later until 4:30 arrives and the music changes to signal the start of the ceremony. Castiel watches as Jess’ mother emerges from the house and down the aisle lined with flower petals, followed by the groomsmen.

He watches anxiously for a particular individual above anyone else and his heart practically leaps out of his chest when the face finally emerges from the house, green eyes as bright as ever and the most beautiful smile set on his mouth.

He feels Charlie nudge him and he can’t help but smile. He doesn’t even try to hide it because this is how he’s supposed to react anyway. When Dean passes by him, their eyes meet and Dean winks at him, effectively taking Castiel’s breath away.

Dammit, he feels like he’s back in grade school.

But then he brings his attention back to the wedding party, Sam now making his way down the aisle, escorted by John. Castiel can’t help but smile at the sight. He hasn’t seen John smile once his entire time here, but John can’t look any prouder than he does right now. He can only imagine what a big step this is for John and Sam. Dean’s mentioned the rough history John has with both him and Sam, but he made it clear Sam and John did not get along well at all throughout their childhood. So to see them both walking down the aisle together, John in place of their mother, it’s truly something to see.

It warms Castiel’s heart and he hopes that maybe the rest of today will be good for everyone. Even though he’s never seen her, Castiel imagines what Sam and Dean’s mother would’ve looked like on Sam’s other side, all of them happy and smiling.

Sam takes his place next to Dean and they murmur quietly to one another, Dean chuckling softly and Sam smiling back at him before setting his eyes forward.

The rest of the wedding party strolls down the aisle - Castiel nudges Charlie back inconspicuously when Jo passes by - and then it comes time to stand for Jess and her father. Castiel grins when she steps out of the house. She looks absolutely beautiful with her hair curled and pinned in place with a sheer veil attached and flowing behind her, the lace dress fanning out around her legs.

Castiel glances back at Sam, who is barely holding it together, eyes already glassy as he watches her progress closer to him with each step.

Once Jess has taken her place in front of Sam, everyone takes their seat and the ceremony begins. Castiel has only ever been to one other wedding before, but he didn’t really know the bride and groom. Here, it’s a whole different experience. He’s come to know who Sam and Jess are. He’s witnessed time and time again the love they share for each other and they’ve told him that he’s part of the family now.

_Family_. Something he never thought he’d have again.

He feels himself choked up more than he’s willing to admit because seeing them smile adoringly at each other and giggle and cry from pure happiness is just so much to bear witness to.

And of course, he can’t help but slide his eyes to the beautiful man standing behind Sam, beaming with his own smile and needing to swipe at his eyes when Sam tearfully delivers his vows to Jess. Pride is practically radiating from Dean in waves.

The whole ceremony is a mixture of laughter and crying and Castiel couldn’t be happier to be a part of this.

He joins everyone else in celebration when Pastor Jim says the final line and Sam sweeps Jess into his arms, sealing their marriage with a tender kiss. Castiel gets to his feet and claps with everyone else as Sam and Jess link their hands together, share an excited smile and dash up the aisle. The bridal party follows suit after Sam and Jess, who have disappeared inside the house. When Dean passes by Castiel, they lock eyes and he hesitates, staring at Castiel before squeezing his way past the people in his row and grabbing his hand, grinning at him.

“C’mon.”

Castiel blinks in surprise but doesn’t resist the pull of Dean’s hand back to the aisle and he tightens his grip as they jog after the others back towards the house.

When they make it inside, they’re met with cheering and laughter from the newly wedded couple and the rest of the bridal party, and Castiel can’t help but feel out of place.

“Dean, why did you bring me in here?” he whispers when he’s pulled off to the side and away from the excitement.

Dean considers the question and it gives Castiel the impression it wasn’t a planned thought. “Well, I wanted to at least let you know what’s going to happen next.”

Castiel snickers under his breath. “Alright.”

“So we’re taking some more pictures now that they’re married and can see each other - and before you ask, it was Sam who was all superstitious and wanted to wait until after to see her. Once we’re done with those, I’ll stop leaving you in Charlie’s clutches.”

He snorts. “I’ll tell her you said that. I don’t mind though, really. Be there for your brother, Dean. Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s smile softens and his thumb brushes the back of Castiel’s hand. He glances down, realizing neither one of them has let go. Castiel’s about to extract his hand before awkwardness settles in but instead, Dean closes the space between them and gives him a chaste kiss.

Castiel all but melts into it. It’s a relief that he’s decided to milk today for all it’s worth. He can worry about the consequences later.

“Let’s go, Dean! Didn’t you two get enough of each other last night?” Sam teases and they break apart, Castiel’s face heating up.

Dean smirks at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

Jo laughs, speaking to Sam and Jess. “Now I understand what you mean.”

“They’ll need soundproof walls for whenever they visit,” Jess giggles.

The blush burns hotter in Castiel’s cheeks and reaches up to his ears as he realizes that not only did Sam and Jess hear them again, but so did Charlie and Jo since they stayed in the third guest bedroom. Well, if the earth could open up and swallow him now - that would be fantastic.

“Uh, sorry,” Castiel mutters and Dean just scoffs beside him.

“Can’t blame us for having a good time.” He looks back to Castiel and winks. “I’ll see you soon?”

He nods, dropping Dean’s hand. “Don’t keep me waiting, Winchester.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Of course, Mr. Novak.” Castiel grimaces at the professional title but Dean’s already heading back out the door with the rest of the bridal party for round two of pictures. He’s glad that Dean has taken to calling him ‘Cas’. He prefers it much more over the professional title he’s come to hate, though he knows Dean was only teasing when he used it just now. He hopes when they return to Chicago, Dean doesn’t stop calling him Cas.

Castiel makes his way outside to find Charlie again and they find their seats, the table empty given they’re at the family table, of which is away taking pictures.

While Castiel sips away at some wine, curiously watching the wedding party from afar, he listens to Charlie explain some superhero he’s forgotten the name of already. Was it Ironhulk? Wonderbat? There’s been so many, he’ll have to make flash cards for the next time he sees her, which he finds himself hoping is sooner rather than later.

Realistically though, he knows there won’t be enough time left to learn and be able to actually converse with Charlie about them all.

He’s watching the wedding party closely and while he sees Dean, he can’t help but notice John isn’t among them. In fact, he hasn’t seen John since the ceremony. Castiel wonders if something happened. But he looked so happy before? What could’ve gone wrong?

Movement on the patio catches his eye and the subject of his musings emerges from the house, but before he can get a read on his face, his back is towards Castiel as he walks towards the wedding party. He watches as John approaches Dean and pulls him aside, muttering only a few words before leaving to disappear inside the house once more.

Castiel catches Dean’s gaze from across the yard and an uneasy feeling settles in his stomach. Dean’s eyebrows are scrunched up, mouth set with concern and he flicks his head subtly, indicating for Castiel to join him.

“Excuse me, Charlie. I think Dean needs to talk to me,” he says to her and she waves him away.

“Perfect. Distract him while I see if I can snag a picture with a certain bridesmaid.” Charlie winks at him and he chuckles.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for your success.” He smiles to her before making his way through the people and to Dean, who meets him half way across the yard. “Dean?”

“My dad wants us to meet him inside.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side. “Did he say what for?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, but it can’t be good. Let’s go.” He winds their fingers together before they enter the house, which is bustling with waiters and kitchen staff preparing dinner and more hors d’oeuvres for the cocktail hour. They find John standing in the open living room, expression guarded as his eyes flicker up to them when they enter.

“What’s this about, Dad?”

John studies them before motioning for them to follow. “We need to talk in private. Out front.”

Castiel shares a worried look with Dean before they follow him through the front door. His heart sinks into his stomach at what they’re met with. Or rather, _who_ they’re met with.

Standing on the stone path leading to the driveway and murmuring into a small device concealed in his hand, is Zachariah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to get real. Hope you enjoyed :D  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

Dean’s body goes rigid against Castiel’s at the sight of the private investigator. Castiel’s should react the same but he goes numb instead, wondering if this is reality or just another silly nightmare. The sharp edge to Dean’s voice to his father answers the question.  
  
“What the hell is this?”  
  
The sound of Dean’s voice brings Zachariah’s attention to the three of them and he turns so he’s facing them head on with a smile that sends an uneasy shiver down Castiel’s back.  
  
“Hello again, boys.”  
  
“What are you doing here?” Dean growls, staring pointedly at him. Castiel can’t help but think what a contrast this Dean is compared to their first encounter with Zachariah. He’d been so nervous and timid that Castiel swore he could smell the fear radiating off him. Now Dean looks like he wants to knock him out cold. Should Castiel be concerned that he doesn’t look the least bit scared to do it either?  
  
“I told you I’d pay you a visit, didn’t I?” Zachariah’s smile falters momentarily as honest confusion crosses his face.  
  
Dean huffs a dry laugh. “Well yeah, but today? You do realize it’s my brother’s wedding, right?”  
  
“I apologize. I wanted to come yesterday but I got pulled into one of my other cases. We got someone,” Zachariah smiles again and it stirs something unpleasant in Castiel. That’s a promise if he’s ever heard one.  
  
Dean turns to John now. “Dad, you just let him stay? On Sam’s wedding day?”  
  
John’s jaw tightens. “I didn’t want to do this today, but after hearing Zach explain the situation, it couldn’t wait. We need to discuss this now.”  
  
“There’s no situation to discuss!”  
  
“Dean, you and Castiel are suspected of getting married so he can stay in the country. I’d say that qualifies as a situation,” John tells him dryly, sparing an accusatory glance at Castiel.  
  
“That’s complete bullshit,” Dean says in exasperation. Castiel’s stomach twists listening to Dean try so hard to conceal their secret.  
  
John takes a careful breath. “Be smart about this, son. You could go to jail. You’d have to pay a lot of money I know you don’t have right now. Do you really want to throw your life away for _him_? Zach here is giving you one last chance to come clean.”  
  
Castiel glances back at Zachariah, who is watching with a serious expression, but his eyes are smiling with confidence. He thinks he’s going to win. No - he _knows_ he’s going to win.  
  
“What are you talking about?” Castiel finds his voice, realizing that in his numbed reaction to the whole scene, he hasn’t said one word.  
  
“If you two admit that this marriage is a fraud, Dean won’t be penalized for taking part in this and you will be sent back to Canada nice and civil. You will even be able to apply for a new visa after the required amount of time has passed,” Zachariah says, shifting the device in his hand. Before, Castiel wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but now he sees it clearly. It’s a recorder.  
  
Zachariah didn’t come for a check-up. He came for a confession.  
  
And Castiel.  
  
He looks to Dean, who’s face is guarded but it’s evident he’s troubled. What if he takes the deal? Castiel’s not even sure anymore what he wants Dean to do at this point. A few days ago, it was crystal clear what the outcome needed to be and there was no discussion about it. Castiel would’ve done anything – _did_ do everything to ensure Dean was going to cooperate and then it was a matter of letting time do the rest. And should any other obstacles occur, Castiel would’ve dealt with them because until they had evidence against him, he wasn’t budging.  
  
But now?  
  
Before he can analyze it too much further, his attention is dragged back to the present by John’s voice.  
  
“Dean, please take the deal. I can’t watch you throw your life away like this,” John eyes are hard yet pleading. “What would your mother say?” he adds softer, voice breaking. Dean’s breathing catches in his throat at the mention of his mother and his grip on Castiel’s hand tightens.  
  
Fuck, he’s going to do it. He’s taking the deal. If there’s anyone Dean can’t let down, it’s his mother. He won’t disappoint her. Castiel can kiss his life here in America goodbye, as well as the man he’s come to care deeply for.  
  
Dean turns his head, locking his eyes with Castiel’s and they hold each other’s gazes for a long moment. Castiel can see the war raging on in those distraught green eyes and he hates himself for being the cause of it. He hates himself for putting Dean and his family in this situation. How can he stand by and tear Dean’s life apart, leaving his family devastated and betrayed in the aftermath of it all?  
  
The answer is he can’t.  
  
Dean has enough on his plate and he doesn’t deserve to stress over being the one to break their deal, to worry his career will be destroyed like Castiel promised it would be if he didn’t cooperate. Castiel may have done a lot of inexcusable, shitty things in the past, especially to Dean, but that stops now. This is the best way he can even begin to correct his wrongdoings, even though it’s nowhere near enough. He opens his mouth to speak up and end it for them both, to let Dean escape this nightmare but Dean beats him to it.  
  
“Okay, I’ll give you a statement.”  
  
Zachariah clicks a button on the recorder and holds it closer to Dean, who takes a deep breath before speaking clearly into it. “Castiel Novak and I have known each other for two years; ever since he hired me to be his assistant. We started dating a year ago and a half ago and got engaged last month. We may be a pain in each other’s asses, but this is real. What we have is real. So no thanks - I think I’ll pass on kicking my fiancé out of the country.”  
  
Dean tugs him back inside the house and Castiel can only follow limply, completely shocked by Dean’s words with a dark pit heavy in his stomach. Dean didn’t turn on him. He kept his word.  
  
Does he have any idea what he’s done?  
  


*****

  
Dean’s heart thumps heavily in his chest, like it might burst any minute and he’s all but gasping for air. His blood is boiling and his limbs tingle with the fate he’s sealed himself. There’s no going back now. He might’ve just made the stupidest goddamn mistake of his life, but he stands by it.

There was a moment where he wondered if he should just take Zachariah’s deal, to listen to his father, to make his mother proud of him wherever she may be. And that was his chance. To escape scot free and call it a day. No more lying to his family. No more worrying about what’ll happen to his career if he failed. No more having control over his own damn life taken from him. Freedom was calling to him, and he was tempted to follow.

But then he looked into Castiel’s eyes, their blue depths clouded with wariness and defeat and resignation and he could only think of one thing.

_Angels are watching over you_.

Was he really going to send his – no, _this_ fallen angel back to place he fell from? His wings are already so damaged and broken from what he's been through. It pained Dean to think what would happen if he wasn’t there to catch Castiel when he needed him most.

What started off as the worst situation Dean could’ve ever found himself in turned into something different. Something so much more.

The biggest lie he’s ever told to his family? He’s caught himself wishing for it to be the truth. His career? He hasn’t thought about the Talbot Project for a couple days now – let alone the perks that await him when he returns – which was the one saving grace he had when he was dragged into this mess. Control over his life? Admittedly, he’s struggled with that long before he met Cas, but now he has the power to make whatever decision he wants. Whatever he said, it would be him calling the shots. He had nothing to lose, except that he had everything to lose.

And he didn’t want to lose Cas. Not yet, anyway.

His mother would know his true feelings for Castiel and she wouldn’t want him to take the deal. She would tell him to fight for what he cares about. She would tell him that as much as he hates flying, he should take the leap. And dammit, did he leap. It might’ve been off a cliff with nothing to cushion his fall from the jagged rocks at the bottom, but he leapt.

“Dean,” Castiel’s low voice prods into his chaotic thoughts.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look at him, worried regret might rear its ugly face.

Castiel takes a shaky breath. “Why did you do that?”

The question takes Dean off guard and he breaks, stopping midway through the living room to look at him. “What do you mean ‘why did I do that?’ We had a fucking deal, Cas.”

Castiel flinches at Dean’s harsh tone and he instantly regrets it, hating that he can’t get himself under control and now it’s going to be evident to everyone around him. But this is just too much. He’s entirely scrambled and confused and doubt is the last thing he needs.

“I know but… Your family, Dean. They love you. You do realize what we’re putting them through, right?”

Dean glances out the window to see John and Zachariah still talking outside and he decides they need a minute to vanish from the world. He leads Cas upstairs to their room and closes the door behind them, their hands finally releasing one another.

“I don’t understand. In case you forgot, this whole thing was your idea. Are you saying you wanted me to take the deal?” That makes about as much fucking sense as pie raining from the sky.

Castiel runs a hand through his hair and if Dean wasn’t so anxious and stressed about this whole thing, he might’ve fantasized about his own fingers carding themselves through the wild tuffs of dark brown.

“No, I mean… I don’t know.”

Dean frowns. Maybe Castiel is realizing there could be bigger consequences than he originally thought there’d be and he can’t afford them. Maybe he wants to jump ship now before it’s too late for him. He’s always thinking about the bigger picture, after all. Perhaps Dean isn’t part of that picture anymore. Or perhaps Castiel thinks Dean will get second thoughts later and abandon him and he’s just trying to beat him to the punch.

He’s done that once before.

But he can’t have Cas walk out on him now, whatever the reason may be. Not after everything they’ve been through. The son of a bitch made him take this deal, so he’s seeing it through to the day they both sign those divorce papers and go their separate ways.

He sighs and closes the space between them. “You don’t have to worry, Cas. I’m not going to break our agreement. I think I made that pretty damn clear about thirty seconds ago.”

Castiel watches him doubtfully and it takes everything in Dean not to just cup his face and kiss him and make Cas see he’s not going anywhere, but that’d probably freak him out even more. Instead, he drops his gaze and words fall from his mouth.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

He’s not sure why he would bring up that intimate moment from last night, but he feels like Cas needs to hear it again to trust him. He didn’t just say it to get laid. He said it because he meant it. He really did. And he still means it now.

Cas swallows thickly but seems to take comfort in the words, exhaling the tension from his body. “You’re right. Everything will be okay.”

Dean nods and steps back, smirking at him. “And you thought I was going to be the one to screw everything up.”

Castiel snorts, rolling his eyes. “Smugness is not a good look on you.”

Dean chuckles, feeling more assured now that Cas looks more at ease. “C’mon. We should go back before people think we’re off having sex again.”

A light blush colors Castiel cheeks. “Only because you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Can’t blame me for being too convincing, can you?”

“No, I suppose I can’t.”

Dean briefly takes in Cas again, double checking to make sure there’s no calculative look disguising itself somewhere and his eyes fall on the crooked tie. He laughs under his breath, reaching forward to fix it.

“What’s with you and ties? For a guy with an image, you’d think you have this down to science by now.” Dean wonders if Cas catches his little joke – the one about how before they left, Cas was dressed up in work clothes because he thought they were flying, in which he would be in the public eye and representing the company. Hence, The Image.

Castiel’s eyes flit away though, the pink in his cheeks darkening and if he got the joke, he’s more embarrassed than amused.

“Um, no one ever taught me. And I guess I was too ashamed to ask when I was on my own.”

Dean frowns, feeling like a complete asshole now. “Oh. Sorry.”

Cas shrugs. “No need for apologies. It’s my fault for never learning.”

Dean slides his hand down the tie to smooth it, actively telling himself not to feel the muscles beneath the fabric, and he glances up to find Cas’ eyes are still lowered and he really hates seeing Cas like this. All dejected and embarrassed.

His mouth moves without permission. “Well, you’ve got me now, so I can teach you.” Dammit, why did he say that? It sounds way too intimate and weird and Cas is probably gonna freak out again. When Cas looks up at him, eyes slightly wide, Dean braces himself for the let-down.

“Really?”

Dean nods numbly, taken aback by the genuine hope in Cas’ voice. “Yeah, why not? It’s not a big deal.”

A small smile creeps up on Cas’ lips. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean grins because he can’t contain it even if he tried, and takes Cas’ hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

“Ready?”

Cas nods and they make their way downstairs and back outside to the large, white tent which is teeming with people mingling and eating the various foods presented to them by waiters flitting about. He spots his father nearby talking to Ellen and Bobby with Jess’ parents, but shows no traces of the encounter he’d just had. He appreciates his dad looking after him, but John would be lying if he said he hasn’t been gunning for Castiel this entire time.

Dean catches Charlie’s eye through the crowd of people and she waves him over excitedly. “Looks like we’re being summoned,” Dean murmurs to Castiel who laughs.

“She is the queen, you know.”

“You catch on fast,” Dean chuckles as they cross the tent to her.

“There you two are! Where’d you go?” she asks, giving Dean a one armed hug.

They exchange a look, neither one of them seeming to have a good answer and Charlie connects the dots herself. “Geez guys, couldn’t you have at least waited until tonight?”

Dean laughs as she confirms what they’d guessed moments ago. “Sorry. Cas really needed some relief. Couldn’t resist me in my suit.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows at Cas, who slides a look at Dean and he swears if looks could kill, he’d be dead ten times over.

“Uh, yes, I couldn’t help myself,” Castiel grits out through his teeth, squeezing Dean’s hand in a way that he assumes is supposed to be threatening, but it just makes him laugh.

“Okay, TMI. Anyway, you ready for your big toast, Dean?” Charlie asks.

Oh shit. With everything that’s happened, he almost forgot. “Uh yeah, definitely! I think Sammy’s gonna ball like a baby. Or kill me. One of the two.”

Charlie laughs. “It’s okay if you’re nervous. You’ll be fine.”

He grins at her and reaches to ruffle her hair before she smacks his hand away. “Dude! You cannot mess up my hair tonight. I’m on the prowl, you know.”

Cas snorts while Dean holds a hand up in surrender. “Whoa, my bad. Didn’t think you were ever since you’ve been hung up on Mystery Girl. And I’m not nervous… Maybe just a little.”

Charlie just gives a nervous laugh and he wonders if something happened with the girl Charlie’s been telling him about. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later because if there’s a story there, he certainly doesn’t want to upset her when she’s trying to enjoy herself.

Dean spends the rest of the cocktail hour mentally going over his speech and normally, he would be rubbing his sweaty palms all over his pants from being a nervous wreck but the atmosphere of being surrounded by his family relaxes him.

He catches glimpses of his beaming brother and his bride from across the tent while he listens to Charlie explain the four different houses of _Harry Potter_ to Cas, who then tries to assign everyone to a house to see if he grasps the concept. Dean objects when Cas says he’s a Hufflepuff.

“Cas, you clearly don’t understand what it means to be a Hufflepuff.”

“No, I think he’s spot on with you, Dean,” Jo teases and he rolls his eyes.

When Cas and Charlie leave to get some drinks, he talks cars with Jo, reminiscing about their time working together at the shop. It leads into her going on excitedly about John and Bobby letting her do her first solo renovation on a ’69 Dodge Charger Super Bee. And it feels really good to talk to Jo again. Except she’s been kind of fidgety and constantly stealing sips of her water, which gets Dean suspicious. He may not have talked to or seen her much the last couple years, but that’s a nervous Jo trait if he ever saw one.

“Okay, what’s up?” he finally asks. Did he do something wrong? Does she really not want to be friends with him again? If there’s something wrong, he wants to fix it. Or at least try to.

Jo looks up at him, opening her mouth to deny it but sighs, deflating in her chair. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you – and I should’ve told you a while ago. But we weren’t talking and I didn’t want to upset you and -“

“Jo,” Dean interrupts, causing her ramblings to stop. He smiles at her, although he can’t help but feel weary. If Jo’s this nervous about it, he’s a little concerned it’s something bad. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

She sighs before looking him in the eye. “I’ve been talking to someone for some time now and lately, things are getting serious. We’ve… we’ve been keeping our relationship a secret because I was scared you’d be upset about it. But she’s amazing and I want to make her happy. She’s been understanding with me wanting to keep it quiet, but she deserves more than that. So I have to come clean.”

Dean furrows his brow. “Why would you think I’d be unhappy about your new relationship? I’m glad you’ve found someone, really. You deserve to be happy, Jo, and it sounds like you are with whoever she is.”

“Yes, but…” she huffs a frustrated breath, “It’s Charlie.”

Dean eyebrows shoot up because, holy crap, he wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t realize they talked much outside of when they all hung out together. “Charlie?”

She nods. “Yeah. I know she’s your best friend and I wasn’t trying to – it just happened.” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger before sitting up straighter in her chair, eyes wide and the words tumble out of her mouth too quickly. “And I swear everything happened after we broke up. We didn’t start talking until after you left.”

It didn’t even occur to Dean that Jo would’ve cheated on him with Charlie and the thought makes him chuckle because through the entirety of their relationship, cheating was never a subject either one of them worried about. They would never hurt each other like that.

Jo doesn’t look too reassured by his laughter and he feels bad because this is obviously something that’s been on her mind. He smiles at her. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. Charlie’s a big girl and she can date whoever she wants. And so can you.”

Jo grins, eye brightening. “Do you really mean that?”

Dean chuckles again. “Of course! You should hear the way she talks about you. I was hoping that whoever it was, it’d work out because I’ve never heard her sound so happy. I know you’re both good girls, so I’m glad you’ve found each other. I can skip the interrogation step,” he winks and Jo laughs, shoving him playfully.

It’s then that Cas and Charlie return with a glass in each hand and Dean watches with a warm feeling as Jo excitedly tells Charlie of Dean’s blessing – which then earns him an armful of Charlie babbling out her thanks. He even catches Cas grinning at them over her shoulder.

On top of finding out about Charlie and Jo, Dean spots Bobby and Ellen holding hands it gives him the dopiest smile because he’s glad they’re finally more open with their relationship. When Bobby’s wife passed and Ellen’s husband died, they both made it clear they were doubtful they could find love again. Dean’s happy they’ve found it once again in each other.

Everything finally feels good. His family is happy, and that in itself helps calm his nerves. More than anything else though, he feels grounded by Cas. He’s put completely at ease by Cas’ smile, the way small crinkles appear at the corner of his eyes and how his nose scrunches up when he laughs especially hard and the steadiness of his hand. Their hands never let go of each other under the table and Dean feels like he’s holding on for dear life. An irrational part of him is scared if he lets Cas go, the man is going to disappear into thin air.

Despite the dark cloud of Zachariah threatening to rain on such a good day, Dean’s relieved that they are both reassured and more confident than ever to uphold this agreement. He’d know if Castiel was having second thoughts - that much was apparent earlier. He’s just glad that for the moment, the stress is gone and he can enjoy his brother’s wedding with Cas by his side.

Too quickly though, the time has come. Everyone makes their way to their assigned tables and Sam and Jess join them at theirs. Dean starts to pull out the little slip of paper that has his speech written out but leaves it. He’s too nervous to look at it anyway.

He stands and accepts the microphone from one of the wedding coordinators, briefly sweeping his gaze over the eighty people who are seated under the glowing lights of the tent, all here for two people.

“Good evening everyone. That was some ceremony, wasn’t it?” he begins and his greeting is met with applause and some notable whoops from the other groomsmen. He opens his mouth to continue and his mind goes blank. Shit. Is it too late to pull out his speech?

His eyes dart around for anything to jog his memory and they find calm blue eyes watching him. The corner of Cas’ mouth twitches upwards and Dean smiles softly, the panic subsiding.

“You know, when Sam and I were younger, we had all sorts of adventures. We ran all over town together, getting into so much trouble and just living life. We swore no one would be able to catch up to us. We just put the pedal to the metal and hauled ass ‘til we ran out of gas. And looking back, that may not have been the best idea - as most of us generally think when we look back on our younger selves.”

Dean chuckles, glancing down as the memory plays out in his mind. “But as kids, you think you’re invincible. Like nothing can ever stop you. Sam and I would pretend to be Batman and Superman - dressed up with tights and capes, the whole nine- and we would run around pretending to fight evil. This one time, we climbed up on the roof of our shed in the back yard and, well, me being Superman, I jumped off as if I could fly.”

He glances at Sam who’s already hiding his face because he knows what happens next. “And I turn around and before I could stop him, Sam was jumping off too. He landed funny on his arm and I drove him to the hospital on my handlebars. We were scared to tell our dad because he warned us not to jump off the shed, but they called him anyway when we got there. Safe to say it wasn’t our brightest moment. But this story wasn’t to embarrass Sam for thinking Batman could fly. Okay, maybe it was a little bit.” A chuckle ripples through the crowd and Sam glares at Dean, failing at fighting off the wide smile that spreads across his face.

“Sam’s brave and he’s not scared to take risks. When he sets his mind to something, he sticks to it ‘til the end. He never gives up, and I couldn’t be happier to know he’s found someone like that in Jess. Someone just as fearless as him. I still remember him calling me up and freaking out that the girl he’d had a crush on agreed to go on a date with him. Now here they are years later, married and in love. And I know sixty years from now they’re still going to look at each other like they did today when they said ‘I do’.”

Dean raises his champagne glass and everyone else follows his lead. “Sam and Jess - here’s to you and all the happiness you deserve. And Jess,” he looks to her and she raises her eyebrows expectantly, “Take care of my little brother.”

She smiles, nodding to him and he returns the smile. “Congratulations guys. Here’s to many more years.” A symphony of cheers and clinking glasses fills the space of the tent and Dean sits down to tap his glass against everyone else’s, eyes lingering on Cas’ when they touch their flutes together.

He takes a sip of the bubbly liquid and Castiel smiles warmly to him, speaking in a low voice just for Dean to hear. “That was a great speech, Dean.”

He grins back. “Thanks, Cas.”

After his speech, there are a few more toasts; one from Jess’ sister and maid of honor, another from her mother on behalf of her and her husband, and the last is John, which actually makes Dean a little emotional. He talks about how proud their mother would be if she saw Sam and Jess today and how he’s happy to see his son find love. It’s almost as if that encounter with Zachariah didn’t happen.

Almost. Dean knows he’ll get an earful tomorrow when they’re home again.

Once everyone’s said their part to Sam and Jess, dinner is brought out by a team of waiters on large serving plates. Just like the rehearsal dinner, it’s family style. He and Charlie make a silent game of stealthily clinking their glasses for Sam and Jess to kiss but it doesn’t take too long for them to catch on.

By the time dessert is finished, the sun is setting with bursts of color slowly darkening in the sky, making the glow the lights intertwined in the canopy of the tent more prominent. Sam and Jess take to the floor for their first dance, Dean chuckling at how nervous his brother looks. He smiles fondly when Jess reaches up on her tip toes to whisper in Sam’s ear and his shoulders relax significantly.

There.

It’s seeing Jess be able to be there for his brother that sends a warm happiness through his body. And then, just like the day before, _Marry Me_ filters out of the speakers and they take their first steps. The practice yesterday really helped them. Sam’s not tripping over his feet as much and Jess doesn’t wobble with dizziness whenever Sam twirls her around.

Dean’s heart actually aches a little at the sight because he wishes he could be as lucky as them. He slides his gaze to Castiel, who is watching with sparkling eyes and lips turned up into an enchanted looking smile. Dean never imagined he’d see Castiel look like this. He’s so used to scowls and hard lines made from frowns. This is a pleasant change. He wishes he had a camera so he could capture the moment and cherish it even after they’re separated.

He’s going to miss that smile.

Dean turns his attention back to Sam and Jess and they finish their dance without any catastrophes. Sam walks back to the table while the next dance begins, which is between Jess and her father. Dean catches Sam’s eye and gives him a thumbs up with a smile, Sam returning it warmly.

When the father-daughter dance ends, Sam makes his way back to the dance floor with Ellen on his arm. They’d discussed this a lot - whether or not Sam dancing with Ellen would be crossing some sort of line. Ellen didn’t want to take away the importance of their mother, but Sam insisted that she’d dance with him, saying how she was basically a second mother to them already and that she was worthy of this privilege. Dean’s grateful they’ve had Ellen all these years. She knows how to keep everyone in line and thinking straight. She’s like the glue that holds their dysfunctional family together.

Once the special one-on-one dances are over, it doesn’t take long for most guests to get a new drink and take to the dance floor, music pumping through the speakers of the DJ booth.

Charlie downs the remainder of her drink and stands up, yanking Jo up with her. “Okay, we’re going to dance. We better see you two out there soon.”

They both wave her off with half promises and watch them go. “Ah, they grow up so fast,” Dean sighs.

Castiel snickers. “By the way, Charlie told me the story about how you became friends. You teaching her how to flirt. With men.”

Dean grins. “Did she now? Yeah, those were some good times.”

Castiel trails his finger around the rim of his glass, looking thoughtful. “It’s too bad we won’t have a wedding like this.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows at the random statement. “Who says we can’t?”

Castiel chuckles, lifting his drink to take a sip and Dean watches as his tongue slides over his lips to lick away a stray drop of champagne. “Come on, Dean. Don’t you think it’s a little much for a fake marriage?”

Dean studies him closely, unable to decipher what’s making Cas say this now, a knot forming in his stomach at the words ‘fake marriage’. They haven’t had any wedding talk, but Dean assumed they would have something like this. Much smaller, of course, but _something_.

“So you just… wanted to sign papers at City Hall?”

Castiel meets his gaze and shrugs. “I don’t know. I assumed that’s what you wanted to do.”

Dean shrugs nonchalantly in return. “Maybe before but…” Dean realizes he’s about to spill the truth of his feels and he quickly steers his words in a different direction, “Zach’s gonna be breathing down our necks now that I basically told him to shove that recorder up his ass. It might be better if we put a little effort into it, you know?”

Castiel nods slowly, eyes still looking conflicted before a small smile crosses his lips. “Good point.”

Dean feels the knot unravel and he relaxes. Things might become a little stilted between them when they return to Chicago, but at least Dean has their wedding day to look forward to. And all the excuses in the world to touch Cas and kiss him and hold him close.

Dean glances over at the dance floor and looks back to Cas, smiling. “Wanna dance?”

Castiel meets his gaze and smirks. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? Last time we danced… Well, you know what happened.”

Dean snorts and his face heats up at the memory. Fuck, how he wishes they were back in that club. With Cas nipping at his neck and then soothing the skin with soft kisses afterwards, their hot breath and eager tongues seeking each other, the way Cas pressed his thigh against Dean’s arousal and his hips involuntarily rutted against it.

Dean clears his throat, reminding himself that they are at a wedding and such thoughts should be saved until he’s alone. “Are you saying you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, Castiel?”

Cas’ face reddens at the question and he stammers over his response. “W-what? Of course not! I’m – I’m just saying - Whatever. Let’s go.” Cas quickly stands from his chair and grabs Dean’s arm, pulling him to the dance floor with Dean laughing the entire time. Oh, he sure loves making Cas squirm.

They find Charlie and Jo in the crowd and fall in place beside them, Sam and Jess eventually finding their way to them too. Dean takes every opportunity to pull Castiel close and despite Cas’ defiance from a moment ago, he leans into each touch. And they just dance. They dance and smile and laugh as they create their own mini dance off because neither of them can’t help but be competitive with the other. It doesn’t matter who actually wins though because they both steal kisses from each other, and that’s all that really matters.

They spend the rest of the evening like that, standing close with their bodies pressed together as they watch Jess toss her flower bouquet - which Jo catches before promptly giving it to Charlie -, feeding each other bits of cake after Sam and Jess cut into it, laughing when Brady and some of the other groomsmen actually manage to lift Sam and parade him around on their shoulders, and cooling down at the table after a round of dancing, their knees brushing against each other.

All the while, Dean tries not to think about how they’ve both been avoiding the slow dances. Dean knows that he has every excuse to drag Cas out there, but it seems so… intimate. Sure, they’ve been having fun acting as any other couple would and being more physical than ever with each other but at the end of the day, it’s an act.

Slow dancing with Castiel will be like the night before all over again. Just another moment he can’t afford to feel because it’ll be one more painful memory once this is all over. Besides, it’s not like Cas appears to be longing for a slow dance. He just stares at the close couples with a pensive look on his face and Dean wonders if he longs to have a real relationship with someone who’s not obligated to keep him in the country. Dean would be lying if a little bit of jealousy didn’t spark in him at the thought.

“You boys gonna get back out there?” Ellen asks, walking up to them with a drink in her hand.

Dean nods. “Yeah, we’re just taking a breather.”

“That dance you did with Sam was beautiful, Ellen,” Castiel tells her, which surprises Dean.

Ellen smiles to him and rests her hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well thank you, Castiel. I think of these boys like the sons I never had and I couldn’t be happier that Sam asked me to do it.”

“Would you dance with Dean as well?”

Ellen glances at Dean. “If he asked me to, I’d gladly accept.”

Damn, Cas is really stepping up his game as fiancé tonight. Dean’s still shocked by the conversation but he nods. “Yeah, of course, Ellen. As long as you don’t lecture me the entire time.”

She laughs. “Have you ever thought I lecture you because you need lecturing?”

Dean playfully rolls his eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m a perfect child.”

Ellen takes a long sip of her drink as if to say otherwise and continues on her way back to the table where his dad and Bobby are leaned back in their chairs, immersed in conversation. “Keep telling yourself that, Winchester. And you better take your fiancé out for at least one slow dance!” she calls over her shoulder.

Dean chuckles, already dismissing her command and as if on cue, the DJ is announcing that there is a special song request and that he’d like all the couples to come out for a dance. Of course, neither Dean or Cas move or even look at each other, for that matter. Dean doesn’t even want to look at Ellen because he knows she’ll see him not budging to go to the dance floor and give him that stare that makes him want to shrink under.

But when the new song starts up, his heart skips a beat, the gentle melody of a guitar filling the air and Dean immediately looks up at Cas, who is staring right back at him.

_Like Real People Do_.

The same song they danced to yesterday. The same song that left Dean with flutters in his stomach and an ache in his chest because that’s when he truly realized how serious the feelings he developed for Cas were. Up until that point, he blamed it on lust or loneliness or simple confusion. But when he danced to this song with Cas, he realized there was more to it than he’d thought. Or rather, he stopped being in denial about it.

He takes a deep breath, heart beating wildly in his chest and before he can stop himself, he’s holding out his hand.

“Cas, would you like to dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's another damn cliff hanger-ish ending and I'm sorry. But I hope you guys enjoyed :)  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys. Some notes before proceeding. This is a rather emotional chapter, so prepare yourself. And just to be safe, I want to warn of any possible triggers. There are some negative mindsets of low self worth (basically canon with the characters, sad as that is). Nothing bad happens- it's just an angst fest. But _please_ , take care of yourself first if this is a concern for you ♥
> 
> Now that I've probably scared half of you away, I hope those of you that continue to read enjoy it, lol

Castiel would love more than anything to be able to say he’s capable of handling unforeseen situations with composition and grace. Unfortunately, as history shows, he does not, despite his seemingly endless practice with them.  
  
There was his father abandoning them. Then Gabriel leaving soon after. Michael dying. The threat of deportation.  
  
Soon, a vicious pattern of react and then accept the punishment dealt to him was formed. The only exception to the pattern was his father, and that was just a matter of time and Castiel handled it relatively well, pouring every emotion felt into drawing. Creating rather than destroying.  
  
After that, the pattern developed - for every action, there was an opposite reaction awaiting him.  
  
Gabriel’s abandonment eventually drove him to run away, indirectly leading to Michael’s death. Michael’s death then led to a long night of alcohol and waking the next morning with the skin on his back tender and raw and a realization that the dream he had of stumbling into a shady looking tattoo parlor, slapping the money meant for food for the month on the counter and demanding the ugliest pair of wings anyone’s ever seen, was very much a memory. Not a dream in the slightest.  
  
That night was his wake up call, so he collected the pieces of himself and glued them together. Used the money Michael had been saving to go to school and work up the ladder until he became an architect he thought Michael would be proud of. Moved to America to have a fresh start and strengthen his walls of safety.  
  
The pattern appeared to be broken after that.  
  
That is until life threw him his next test – deportation. He’d thought by that point he mastered the curve balls thrown his way, but no such luck. Apparently, he decided the best call of action was to blackmail his assistant into an illegal marriage.  
  
His punishment this time?  
  
Growing attached to the very man he coerced. Letting Dean take him apart piece by piece. Surrendering the control he’s craved throughout his life. Being painstakingly aware how wrong it all is but letting Dean soothe and encourage that selfish part of him to continue being wrong.  
  
And now here he is. Faced with yet another unexpected situation. Admittedly, it’s lower grade compared to those in the past, but unexpected nonetheless.  
  
Castiel flicks his gaze from Dean’s eyes down to his proffered hand and his throat tightens up. Dean wants to dance with him to the very song they did yesterday. He should politely decline if he knows what’s good for his emotional health, but he finds himself accepting Dean’s hand, a shy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth without permission.  
  
“I would.”  
  
Dean returns the soft smile and they walk to the dance floor to take up their place among the other swaying couples. Unlike yesterday, they aren’t trying to win a dance off so there’s no floating around the floor, doing fancy spins and dips.  
  
Instead, Castiel lets Dean pull their bodies close together, hands firm but gentle on his hips. He snakes his arms loosely around Dean’s neck and lifts his gaze to stare into those soft green eyes, which are absolutely breathtaking in the dimness of the night, the fairy lights reflected softly in them.  
  
“So, did you request this song?” Castiel asks quietly.  
  
Dean furrows his brow. “No. Take it you didn’t either?”  
  
He shakes his head and Dean grins. “What a funny coincidence.”  
  
Castiel snorts. “Someone once told me ‘accidents don’t just happen accidentally’.”  
  
Dean purses his lips, considering his own words. “Well, whoever said that must be pretty damn awesome.”  
  
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps, if a little cocky.”  
  
Dean grins. “Even better.”  
  
Castiel can’t help but smile and they stop talking, swaying wordlessly with the other couples. He hesitates before sliding his arms down a little and leaning his head against Dean’s shoulder. He’s desperate to be close to Dean, wanting to melt into his arms and stay there forever.  
  
Castiel half expects Dean to go stiff underneath him but Dean wraps his arms tighter around his waist in response. There’s a flutter in his chest at the secure touch and he closes his eyes, the music flowing through them and the rest of the world slips away to where it’s just him and Dean.  
  
He hangs on to every musical note, small breath, brush of Dean’s fingers against his back and commits each detail to memory.  
  
This is why he hasn’t suggested them dance to a slower, more romantic song. Because he knew what it would do to him. Knew he’d fall deeper into the hole he’s buried himself in. All evening, he’s enjoyed acting with Dean, reveled in every touch, every kiss, every smile shared.  
  
But as much as he tried to ignore it, a dark cloud of guilt lingered in the back of his mind through it all. A subtle reminder of what his reality is.  
  
He shouldn’t have let Dean cover for him or convince him that everything will be alright. The only thing that’s been staving off the guilt is that small trace of selfishness that still resides in him. He’s still so unbelievably selfish because against all the guilt, he’d rather submit to that insignificant monster if it meant being close to Dean just a little bit longer.  
  
“ _Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we could just kiss like real people do_ ,” Dean sings to him, voice soft and quiet in his ear as Dean rests his head against Castiel's. The small lump in Castiel’s throat grows. His heart swells with pure, raw emotion that makes him want to laugh and cry at the same time. He pulls back to look at Dean. Dammit, if he’s not the most beautiful person Castiel’s ever seen.  
  
Soft but vivid green eyes that light up even in the low lighting. Long eyelashes that frame them, casting faint shadows that mingle with the freckles painted on his skin. The spiky, disarray of his hair from sweat and fingers being carded through it. And those lips. They’re full and soft looking, made even more inviting by the sheen left after Dean licks them. Of course, these features are only heightened by who Dean Winchester actually is.  
  
Dean is breathtaking inside just as much as out. The closure of Castiel’s throat isn’t helping one bit.  
  
He catches Dean’s gaze flicker downwards and Castiel breaks. He’s tired of thinking. He wants to do nothing but feel. Just feel. So Castiel leans forward and delicately presses their lips together, Dean sighing against him.  
  
They stop swaying. And they just kiss.  
  
Dean moves a hand to cup Castiel’s face and Castiel drops both arms to wrap them around Dean’s waist, pulling their bodies flesh against each other. And their lips move together - soft and tender. It’s not hungry or urgent, but a different intensity flares between them that Castiel finds difficult to describe. It’s as if they’re kissing for the last time and neither one of them wants to let go, holding on to every second that ticks by because honestly, every second counts. And Castiel never wants their time to end.  
  
Castiel’s practically drowning as he parts his lips to let Dean’s tongue caress his own, every bit of guilt he’s ever felt through this entire predicament crashing down on him. He so badly wanted to just feel, but how can he?  
  
He thinks of the pain Dean’s family will be in when they find out the truth. That Dean lied to them and Castiel isn’t who they think he is. His heart aches at the betrayal and disgust they’ll have when they look at him. He can already see the devastation in his wake they’ll be left in and Dean will be the one to face them alone.  
  
_Dean_.  
  
He can’t even begin to consider how much Dean will loathe him when this blows up their faces. Dean may have been confident earlier, but Castiel wasn’t so sure and he stupidly let himself be convinced. Now he realizes the ugly truth – it was never a matter of if they’ll get caught. It’s _when_. And _when_ that happens, Dean will hate him more than ever for subjecting him to this. He’ll take back everything they’ve shared this past week and Castiel won’t be able to recover from it. The regret Dean will have…  
  
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, he accepts what he has to do. He kills that last bit of selfishness within himself that longs for Dean. It’s for the best. It’s time to set Dean free, as much as it hurts and as much as he wants nothing more than to stay.  
  
The song ends, the final chord reverberating through the speakers and tapering off and Castiel regretfully pulls away, already missing the feel of Dean’s lips against his. He drops his hands from Dean’s waist, his heart rate beginning to accelerate. Dean takes one look at him before his eyebrows knit together, eyes searching.  
  
“Cas? What’s wrong?”  
  
“Hm? Oh nothing. I…” he swallows thickly around the lump that’s still threatening to suffocate him, “I have to go to the bathroom really quick.” Castiel offers him a smile.  
  
Dean stares at him warily for a moment before releasing his grasp. “Okay. I’ll get us a couple more drinks?”  
  
Castiel nods, hoping it doesn’t look too eager. “Yes, I’d appreciate that. Thank you.” He turns on his heel and hastily makes his way inside, forcing himself not to steal one last look over his shoulder. His breathing is getting more ragged and he’s worried he’s on the verge of a panic attack.  
  
He needs to talk to someone. Now.  
  
When he gets inside, he traverses through the house before emerging out front where they talked to Zachariah earlier. He can’t stand to be inside. He needs air and thankfully, he has privacy in the front.  
  
Fumbling, he manages to pull his cellphone from his pocket and taps on the most recent call. He tries to calm his breathing as it rings. Just when he’s beginning to give up hope and hang up before the rejection sets in, that familiar voice greets him.  
  
“Hey Cassie.”  
  
“Gabriel, I… I need to talk to you,” he pants out.  
  
“Castiel? Are you okay?” Gabriel’s voice immediately fills with worry, erasing any traces of the lighthearted tone.  
  
“I-I don’t know. I just really needed someone to talk to and… You’re the only person I can call.”  
  
“What’s going on? Did you get caught? Are you going to jail?” Gabriel fires questions left and right and Castiel has to interrupt him.  
  
“No no, Dean and I didn’t get caught. But -” he bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud, “Gabriel, I’m going to tell Zachariah the truth.”  
  
“What? Don’t be ridiculous! You’ve made it this far, why give it up now?”  
  
Castiel takes a deep breath, gradually slowing his uneven breathing. “Because Zachariah visited Dean and I today. He gave us one more out, but Dean covered for us. He lied to him and… Gabriel, he has a family. So many wonderful people that love him and want nothing but the best for him and - I can’t ruin that. I thought I could but…” he trails off, eyes stinging and seconds later a warm tear is rolling down his cheek.  
  
Gabriel is quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “You fell for him, didn’t you?”  
  
Castiel releases a shaky breath at the word. “I don’t know. I care about him, but to be quite honest, I don’t think love is something I can truly experience.”  
  
Gabriel snorts a laugh on the other end. “Don’t be so dramatic, Cassie. Of course you can! You called me up, didn’t you?”  
  
Castiel tries to swallow down the lump in his throat but it doesn’t budge, like it hasn’t budged since Dean offered his hand.  
  
“I’m scared, Gabe. I don’t think I can handle continuing this act and knowing the only reason Dean is doing this is for a boost in his career. I can’t,” he pauses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Am I doing the right thing?”  
  
A sigh fills his ear. “Honestly? I don’t know. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you no matter what. If you need me to lie, I’ll gladly do it. If you decide to walk away, I’ll come home with you. I know I haven’t always been there for you, but you’re not in this alone, Castiel. I’ll be there this time. I promise.”  
  
More tears trail down his cheeks when Castiel reopens his eyes, clutching the phone tighter to his ear. “Thank you. I expect they’ll want me gone come Monday. I’ll… I’ll call you soon about when my flight home is.”  
  
He pulls the phone away and hangs up, staring at the black scene as more tears blur his vision. Dammit, why did he have to break all his rules? Why did he let Dean in? Why did he allow himself to fa-  
  
“So it’s true.” John’s voice startles him and he whips around to see the man standing in the doorway, arm crossed over his chest. Castiel opens his mouth to respond but nothing comes out.  
  
“I wouldn’t try lying either. I heard everything.”  
  
Castiel clears his throat uneasily, but his voice still comes across coarse. “I wasn’t going to lie, sir.”  
  
John shrugs. “You have this entire time. How could I have known?”  
  
John’s right but he can’t bring himself to respond. John continues talking once he realizes Castiel’s keeping quiet. “So you blackmailed my son into marrying you. What did you hold over him, Castiel?”  
  
He winces at the word but answers obediently. “His career.” He pauses before expanding. He owes John the truth. “I told him that if he didn’t agree to marry me, I would destroy any chance of a career he had. No firm would hire him.”  
  
John chuckles dryly. “Well, aren’t you something else. Let me make this clear - I won’t have anyone threatening my boys. I may not have been the best father to them, but I’ve tried so damn hard to protect them and I sure as hell won’t let some soulless parasite bleed them dry.”  
  
The words stab into Castiel, nestling themselves painfully under his skin and he nods. “I understand, but you no longer need to worry. I’m leaving tonight. And… I know it won’t mean much to you but I am truly sorry, Mr. Winchester. I’m sorry for everything.”  
  
John doesn’t say anything as he squeezes past him in the doorway, but Castiel pauses at the bottom of the stairs. “Would you mind distracting Dean until I’m gone? It’d be best he doesn’t see me again.”  
  
John turns to meet his gaze and nods once. “I think that’d be best too.”  
  
Castiel lowers his eyes before climbing the stairs, trying to ignore the way his heart shatters and aches with each step. He wants more than anything to disappear. Have his existence wiped clean from the minds’ of the people he’s encountered. He’s done so much damage. Hurt so many people.  
  
No one would miss him.  
  


*****

  
“So, did your date ditch you?” Jo asks, plopping herself down at the table and taking a long drink of her water.

Dean looks up at her and chuckles. “Maybe. But I don’t get ditched so I’m not concerned.” He wonders if it sounds as pathetic to Jo as it did to him. It's such a weak cover. He’s spent the last fifteen minutes alternating between staring at the house and the two glasses waiting in front of him, one already drained.

He’s been debating drinking Cas’ and getting another round for when he comes back. He really needs the alcohol after that dance with Cas because… Fuck. He’s out of his goddamn mind. He’s only making it worse for himself, as usual.

“Why don’t you dance with us all? Cas will be out soon and Sam’s really pulling out all his best moves now that he’s had a few drinks. He’s even out doing Ash,” she says, an amused glint in her eye at the last point.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? He’s showing up _Ash_?” he chuckles at the mental image. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I should wait for Cas. He seemed… off. Or something.”

Jo scrunches her eyebrows. “What gave you that idea? Every time I’ve seen him tonight he’s looked happy enough.”

Dean shrugs. “Just a feeling.”

Movement from the house catches his eye but disappointment fills him when it’s not Cas. Instead it’s his dad. Dean’s about to return his attention back to Jo when his stomach lurches uneasily. His dad was just in the house…

“I’ll be right back.” He gets up and intercepts his dad before he can join Bobby and Ellen back at the table.

“Hey, Dad.”

John grunts a greeting. “Dean. Having a good time tonight?”

He nods. “Yeah, definitely. Uh, you didn’t happen to see Cas in there, did you?”

John ponders this for a moment before nodding. “I did see him, actually. Is something wrong?”

Dean fights the impatience growing inside him, reminding himself to stay calm. The last thing he needs is a fight with his dad when he’s in the middle of stressing over Cas. “No, but I just want to make sure he’s okay. He’s been gone a while and…” he struggles to find the words because honestly, he’s a little uncomfortable talking to his dad about Cas. It’s clear he has something against him, especially after today’s incident with Zach.

“I think he’s fine, Dean. He’s talking on the phone to someone named… Gabriel?” John squints his eyes, trying to recall the name. Dean relaxes a hair because how would John know that name if he didn’t overhear it? He’s gotta be telling the truth.

“Oh. Yeah, Gabriel’s his brother.”

John nods in understanding, shifting on his feet. “Well, I didn’t get a vibe that Castiel was upset. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying talking with him.”

“That’s… good. He hasn’t seen his brother in a while,” Dean says mostly to himself.

“Son, please don’t overthink anything tonight. Go enjoy your brother’s wedding before it’s all over,” John tells him, slapping him gently on the shoulder before joining Bobby, Ellen and some of Jess’ older relatives, who look like they’re starting to drag. It _is_ late and people are starting to leave. It’s gotta be past two in the morning by now.

Dean heads back to the table where Jo is still sitting, watching him expectantly. “Well?”

He downs Cas’ untouched drink before answering. “I guess he’s talking to his brother.”

“That’s good, right?”

Dean glances back at the house, the uneasy feeling still lingering in his stomach. “Yeah, it is.”

“Come on then, let’s get back out there for one more song. DJ’s gotta be wrapping up soon.”

He waves her off. “You go. I’m gonna help clear the tables. It’s been a long day.”

She sighs and nods. “Okay, Dean.”

He busies himself with clearing centerpieces from the tables and says his goodbyes to those on their way out, thanking them for coming and how much it meant to Sam and Jess, blah blah blah. Best Man stuff. He’s doing pretty much anything to distract himself from glancing at the house and keeping his paranoid mind from wandering. He does both anyway.

He’s folding up a tablecloth, staring at the patio when Charlie’s voice scares the shit out of him.

“Jesus Christ, Charlie!” he hisses.

She ignores the outburst. “Whatcha doin’?”

He gives her a blank stare. “I’m folding this table cloth. What’s it look like?”

She rolls her eyes. “I mean, why are you obsessively staring at that house like Gunner Lawless is gonna stroll out?”

He scowls. “I’m not staring.”

Weak. He should know better too because Charlie can smell when he’s lying. At least, he thinks she can.

“Where’s Cas, by the way?”

Dammit. How is she so good? “Uh, last I heard? Talking to his brother inside.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

Dean shrugs, moving onto the next table and ignoring her incredulous tone. “He’s been in there over an hour.” He feels Charlie’s gaze burning into him but he refuses to look at her.

“Soo, why don’t you pop in there and check?”

Dean sighs. He’s being ridiculous. It’s really that simple. He just needs to go in there and see what the hell Cas is doing.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be right back.”

He makes his way towards the house, only pausing when his dad’s voice calls to him. “Hey Dean! Do you mind helping fold up these tables over here?”

He looks over his shoulder, trying to stifle his annoyance. “I will. I just need two minutes.”

John stiffens at the response. “We need your help _now_. That’s an order.”

At one point in his life, Dean would’ve heard the word ‘order’ and immediately obeyed, but he’s done with that. _Been_ done with it and not looking to go back. Rather than get pissy about it though, he heaves an impatient sigh. “It can wait two minutes, Dad. I need to check on Cas. He’s been gone awhile.”

He starts across the yard again but John calls after him. “You won’t find him in there, Dean.”

Dean’s blood runs cold and he stops in his tracks.

Wh… What?

He turns to look at his father, everyone else stopping to do the same. Dread pools in his stomach, but he’s forcing himself not to jump to conclusions.

“What are you talking about?” he asks carefully, retracing his steps back to the group.

John’s jaw is tight when he speaks. “Castiel’s gone. And he told me everything before he left.”

Dean stares at him, mind trying to process the words being fed to him. It doesn’t make sense. Cas wouldn’t spill their secret. He wouldn’t leave…

“What are you talking about, John?” Ellen asks, breaking the tense silence and Dean realizes that everyone is hearing this too - Sam, Jess, Bobby, Charlie, Jo, the rest of the bridal party that’s still here.

John sweeps his gaze over everyone before settling his attention back on Dean. “Castiel manipulated Dean into marrying him so he could avoid deportation.”

There’re a few sharp inhales, but Dean can’t even breathe. He’s completely numb. “H-how do you know that?” he manages to stammer out, voice low.

John sighs. “Because he told me himself, Dean. Zachariah was right all along.”

“Hold on, I’m lost. Zacha-who now?” Sam asks, lifting a hand to rest against his forehead and Dean feels awful. Poor guy is drunk and exhausted and a mind fuck like this is the last thing Sam needs.

“He’s a private investigator assigned to determine whether your brother’s proposal was legitimate or not,” John says.

All eyes snap to Dean and all he can do is stare at their horrified expressions. “Dean, that can’t be true. Tell us this is one of your stupid pranks,” Jess says, eyes wide and begging. Dean opens his mouth to respond but he can’t, so he drops his gaze. It’s confirmation enough for everyone.

“I don’t understand. Why did you lie to us?” Sam asks, voice thick with hurt and Dean meets his brother’s pained expression.

Goddammit. He’s really done it this time. He went and fucked up and now his family has to pay for his stupid mistakes. He waits for something to happen – either anger or sadness or a joke to brush off the gravity of the situation. But there’s nothing.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I thought I had it under control,” he murmurs, lowering his gaze.

“Clearly, you didn’t! How could you even think that was a good idea? This is why you need to _talk_ to us, Dean. What if you got in trouble? _Are_ you in trouble?” Sam’s glaring at him, a war of emotions set in his features.

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know,” but then something clicks belatedly in his mind and it sets off a spark of something in him. “But you think it’s so easy to say anything to you, don’t you? You have no idea, Sam.”

Sam huffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have it all! Or pretty damn close to it! You’re a lawyer now, got a wife, and soon you’ll have the job and the house and kids. And what the fuck do I have? I have nothing compared to you, Sam. _Nothing_. So excuse me for wanting to keep this to myself,” Dean growls back.

“That’s no way to talk to your brother,” John scolds and Dean turns on him next.

“Don’t even get me started with you, Dad. You’ve been gunning for Cas this whole time. It wouldn’t have mattered if our relationship was real or not. You didn’t like him from the start and you never planned on trying either.”

“Okay, I think we all need to take a breather,” Bobby says, stepping between Dean and John and giving them each a warning look.

The quick flare of feeling that overcame Dean fades back to numbness as soon as he looks at Bobby. He’s right. Dean needs a moment to be alone because he’s done enough damage tonight as it is.

He sighs, backing away from the group. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I’m sorry.”

He drags his feet back to the house, ignoring the few calls he gets behind him but no one actually runs after him. Why would they? The bomb he’s been carrying just exploded. Who’d want to be anywhere near him right now?

Dean climbs the stairs, relying heavily on the rail to keep him standing upright. It’s like all the strength’s been sucked from his body, save for a sliver of hope - that maybe Cas is still here packing his bags. Maybe Dean can catch him before it’s too late. He’s not sure what he’d say, but he’d like to say something.

He hesitates before opening the door to their room, still holding onto that last fragile flicker but he’s met with emptiness. And the pathetic flame burns out.

After he trudges over to the nightstand to flick on the lamp, he sees all of Cas’ bags are gone and any traces of him ever being here have been erased with the exception of the white, round tube laying neatly in the center of the bed, a note folded on top. Dean snorts to himself, shaking his head as he leans over, picking up the note and unfolding it.

_Dean,_

_I apologize for leaving this way. I know it’s sudden and we agreed to be open with each other, but I think this is for the best. I didn’t want to ruin the remainder of your brother’s wedding. You all deserve to be happy and enjoy this moment - I’ve already intruded enough. I know you must have questions, but just take the out I’ve given you. There’s no need for both of us to be punished. Please don’t be upset with your father. He loves you very much and was doing as any other father would do. I wish I had the luxury of having a father who cared that much. Your whole family loves you, Dean, and they deserve better than what you and I have given them._

_I know you must be upset at me failing on my half of the agreement, but not to worry. Before I leave, I will input my recommendation to Metatron and you will still get your opportunity to present your ideas. To be quite honest, I never thought your drawings were subpar and I apologize for making you believe otherwise. You have something special that cannot be taught. What you’ve created - they perfectly capture all that you are and all you have to offer, which is everything. You’re going to do great things, Dean. I’ve left everything here for you to bring back to Chicago. I wish you all the luck in your career._

_Take care of yourself._

_-Castiel_

Dean stares down at the note in his now trembling hands and the numbness that curled itself around his body evaporates. Now all that burns in him is pure, white hot anger. His little argument with Sam and his father moments ago is nothing compared to what he feels now. He crumbles the paper up into ball before whipping it across the room.

“You goddamn fucking asshole!”

His eyes dart to the tube that contains his drawings and grabs it, ripping the top off and dumping the rolled up sketches on the bed. He grabs one at random, glancing over it – though he can’t even process what’s on the page - before ripping it up and throwing the pieces at his feet. He grabs another and does the same, shredding and crushing in in his hands, eyes blurring with tears. He vaguely hears a knock at the door but ignores it. It doesn’t matter though because it still opens.

“Dean?” Charlie’s voice asks cautiously and he whips around to glare at her.

“What?” he shouts and she doesn’t even wince at his tone. She calmly closes the door behind her and faces him again.

“I gather you’re a little upset.”

He laughs humorlessly, wiping aggressively at the tears that spill down his cheeks. “No, I’m fan-friggin-tastic.”

Charlie sighs, moving to sit on the bed in front of him. “I get it, Dean. You love him. And him leaving… You’re heartbroken.”

He scowls. “I don’t love him, Charlie. Didn’t you hear? It was a fucking lie. I’m just sorry we got caught is all. I hate him. I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anything in my life. That son of a bitch thinks he can just jump ship and leave me to deal with everything? Fuck him.”

He shakes his head, stalking over to where he threw the crumpled up letter and picks it up, unfolding it and shoving it in Charlie’s hands. “Behold, the biggest pile of bullshit you’ll ever read.”

Charlie reads through the letter before looking back up to Dean, seeming confused. “I don’t understand. He left because he wanted to protect you.”

He shakes his head. “No, he left because he’s a cowardly asshole. And I fucking hate him. Do you realize what a dick he is? He’s treated me like shit for two years, never had a nice thing to say to anyone, coerced me into this stupid deal to save his sorry ass and then he leaves that note… that fucking worthless note.” He grabs another sheet of tracing paper and shreds it, hating that it tears so easily. He wants something that’ll fight back. But this’ll have to do because if he’s not ripping up the paper, he might punch a wall and he’s fairly certain it’d break his hand. On top of everything else, a broken hand doesn’t sound ideal.

Charlie watches him wordlessly, not moving to stop his hands from destroying. He reaches for another sketch but when he goes to tear it up, all his strength leaves him and he can’t. He releases it, letting it float to the floor before sinking onto the bed beside her, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and rubbing his hands down his face, fingertips wetted as they pass over his eyes.

Charlie rubs his back and he lets her. “He couldn’t even be decent enough to tell me to my face, Charlie. He’s the most selfish bastard I ever met and I… I hate him so much.”

She sighs. “No you don’t.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Hey-” she turns his head to meet her eyes, “It’s okay to admit you love him, Dean. You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

He studies her face before glancing away again. Dammit, he wanted so hard to not let himself care about Cas. He knew it would never transcend further than the façade they’d created, so why did he even let himself cross that line?

He shakes his head, voice a low whisper. “It wasn’t love, Charlie. Maybe it could’ve been, and I’ll admit there was something. He made me feel things – strong things, but it just isn’t…” he can’t even bring himself to say the word without the threat of more tears or his voice cracking like some pathetic sap.

“I think you should talk to him,” Charlie suggests quietly.

“No. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because he wanted to leave. This thing was never supposed to be more than a business arrangement. I mean, look at what he wrote,” Dean gestures to the note still held in Charlie’s hand. “He thinks that I was going to be upset over him flaking out on his end of our fucking deal. What more could he possibly say?”

Charlie takes his hand and squeezes it. “Okay fine. Maybe you didn’t fall in love with him, but you liked him a lot. Enough that him leaving like this is affecting you so strongly. You need closure, Dean. You need to say what you need – yell or whatever – but you should talk to him.”

Dean looks at her carefully before sighing. “I appreciate the concern, Charlie, but it’s better this way. I’m tired. I just want to forget about it and move on.”

Yeah, he definitely wants to forget. Forget that he’s not worth the effort. Forget that he’s unlovable. Forget that everything around him falls apart. And it’s all his fault.

Forgetting is good.

Charlie opens her mouth to argue but then deflates, setting the note on the bed beside them and lays her free hand over the one she’s still holding. “Get some rest and think about it. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Dean nods, letting her drop his hand to wrap her arms around him. He hugs back with one arm. “Night, Charlie.”

She stands from the bed, the corners of her mouth down-turned. “Night, Dean.”

He watches her go and the moment the door closes, he braces himself for the sobs that have been choking him since John uttered the words ‘Castiel's gone’. But nothing happens.

He glances down at his feet to see the shredded remains of his sketches and sighs, getting up to clean the mess. He tosses the pieces in trash and begins placing the surviving sketches back in the tube. He picks up the last rolled up drawing and feels something slide from the center of it. He looks down to see the slightly smashed, blue Forget Me Nots from earlier.

Cas kept them. But now he’s giving them back.

Dean picks up the stupid blue flowers, remembering how Cas was obsessing over that centerpiece until he found the flaw in it. Like he does everything else. He lifts the wilting flowers to his nose and breathes in the faint scent.

Stupid son of a bitch.

He walks over to the trash can and drops the flowers in to join the fragments of paper.

He begins stripping out of his suit, feeling like he can breathe better with each article of clothing that drops to the floor until he’s standing there in his boxers. He climbs into bed and flicks off the light on his nightstand, letting the darkness swallow him up. That wave of anger drained the last little bit of energy he had left in him. He’s never felt so hollow and empty.

_Angels are watching over you_.

“Bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you?” he whispers to the void of night. His mother was wrong. Angels aren’t watching. They don’t care. They simply don’t have the capacity to care. And he was an idiot to think they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Don't hate me too much!  
>  ~~But I mean, you knew it was coming lol~~  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just apologize to everyone that was destroyed by the last chapter, lol. But not to worry, good things come to those who wait :)

Sunrises are underrated.  
  
At least, it seems they are. There are flocks of people that admire and fawn over sunsets, and for good reason. Sunsets are stunning - bursts of breathtaking color in the sky that fade into a different kind of life, one that involves the vast wonder of stars and the moon. But ultimately, sunsets are the end. They’re the signal that another day has come and gone. That life survived another day and even if something didn’t go according to plan, there’s the promise of tomorrow.  
  
And sunrises breathe that promise. Sunrises are the tomorrow’s people yearned for yesterday. But then why aren’t they savored like sunsets? Sure, they’re appreciated from time to time but there aren’t exactly crowds of people that get up early for the sole purpose of watching the sunrise on a daily basis. Not like a sunset. They’d rather watch the sun die into night than see it born into day. It seems backwards. Second chances are always pleaded for and sought after, so why are there not more people eager to witness the darkness give way to restored light?  
  
Oh, that’s right. Second chances are only valued by the desperate.  
  
These are the thoughts that run through Dean’s head as he stands on the edge of the pier, sipping at his mug of coffee. He’s not sure why he’s even thinking about sunrises and wishing them to be seen more. It’s kind of hypocritical, actually. It’s not like he actively gets up to watch them himself. There were a few times he drove through the night so late he watched the first light of dawn breach the night sky. It was nice, but it’s not like he made plans to see it happen again. Any other time he’s seen the sun rise, he sure as hell wasn’t up that early on his own terms.  
  
He blames the weird thoughts on a shitty night’s rest. The few hours of sleep he managed to steal were burdened by flames and burnt feathers and haunting blue eyes.  
  
But if Dean got one good thing out of tossing and turning in his bed all night, it’s that he had a lot of time to think the situation over and he’s made three decisions.  
  
Strangely, decision number one was borrowed from Castiel. Dean’s decided to take the approach he knows Castiel uses whenever solving a problem - tossing his feelings out the door. Castiel‘s a master at separating emotion from logic, which is why it probably didn’t faze him one bit to leave. It’s time Dean took a page out of Cas’ book and did the same because what use are feelings to him anyway? They’re the ones that got him in this mess in the first place. Maybe if he didn’t feel things for Cas other than the annoyance and slight resentment he felt before, he wouldn’t have cared that Cas left. Maybe even been relieved about it.  
  
Besides, Castiel sure didn’t. The bastard left without half the goodbye that he owed Dean for the two years he’s put up with his boss’ shit. After all the progress Dean thought they made, he figured he deserved better than that. He thought that maybe they could consider each other friends. He thought maybe…  
  
Dean snorts quietly, lifting the mug to his lips and not caring when the still scalding liquid burns his tongue. Feelings are gone now. Enough of this dumb ‘oh what could have been’ crap. It solves nothing and leaves him hollowed out.  
  
In addition to his resolution over the dismissal of emotions, he came to a second decision. He’s going to confront his dad once and for all. They’re either going to work to fix their problems or they’re not. This back and forth nonsense is exhausting and frankly, it’s just getting old. Dean’s had it with the tension, the tip toeing around before an explosion goes off, causing collateral damage to anyone in the proximity.  
  
Sam deserves better than that. Jess deserves better than that. Their future family deserves better than that. And if Sam and John were able to come to terms with their differences – a miracle in itself, really – then why can’t Dean?  
  
He trails his gaze across the calm water, admiring how the pastel sky is reflected flawlessly on the remarkably still surface. Not even the lapping of waves or soft breeze is disrupting the scene. Really, it’s a beautiful sunrise. He’s disappointed there aren’t many awake to see it. The only thing off about it is the big, fluffy dark clouds in the distance - the type that threaten an impressive storm. They’re too far away for Dean to tell whether the storm is coming or going. He doesn’t care where it’s headed, as long as he’s not caught in the middle of it on his way home.  
  
“You’re up early.”  
  
Dean looks over his shoulder to find Sam staring at him. He studies his face for any insight to what’s going through that head of his, but he’s giving nothing away. Dean wouldn’t blame him for still being pissed about last night. Dean deserves the anger. The way he reacted was stupid and pointless.  
  
He returns his attention back to the lake. “Guess I have a lot on my mind. Wanted to watch the sun rise.”  
  
The wooden boards creak their protests as Sam walks forward to join him on the pier, looking out over the lake with him. “It’s a nice one.”  
  
“Yeah. Too bad about those clouds though, huh?”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
It’s quiet for an excruciatingly long, tension-filled moment and Dean knows it’s time to cut the small talk and fess up to his mistakes. He owes Sam that much. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. How I acted - it was stupid of me and… I’m an idiot, Sam. You know that.”  
  
Sam glances over at him, frowning. “I was pissed you lied to us, Dean. I didn’t understand how we got to this point. I wanted to know where along the way I failed as a brother that you let this guy basically buy your soul.”  
  
He sighs, hating that Sam could even consider that option. “You're not the one who failed, Sam." He shifts on his feet, adding with a quiet snicker, "But I guess I kind of did sell my soul, didn’t I?”  
  
Sam holds up a finger for him to stop talking. “I was mad, but confused more than anything. I just thought there was no way in hell you’d ever give into some shady deal like that. After everything you’ve told us about Cas, I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve known he was capable of abandoning you without as much as a proper goodbye.”  
  
Dean winces and tries to interject but Sam silences him again. “Just listen to me, Dean. Jess and I were trying to understand, and then she realized we completely missed something. I’m not pissed at you anymore because I see the truth now. And it’s not just about that arrangement.”  
  
He waits for him to clarify but Sam’s looking at him with a serious expression as if he unveiled some great discovery but Dean’s blind to it.  
  
“I’m not following…”  
  
An impatient sigh huffs out of Sam. “You’re in love with Cas.”  
  
Flutters tickle Dean’s heart at the word but he quickly stifles the sensation, pouring cement over the butterflies and letting them suffocate, covering the slip with a scoff. “You seem confident in your observations, Dr. Phil.”  
  
Sam scowls. “Don’t try to brush this off. Looking back and knowing now that you guys were faking the whole relationship? It’s so obvious. You were crazy about him! And you really had us going - which is amazing because we were all so sure we’d never be able to like Cas after everything you’ve said about him. But we completely believed you. We saw how you were around him and for the first time in a while, you were _happy_. And it’s because you weren’t putting on a show, Dean. You can’t fake happiness like that.”  
  
Dean simply takes another sip of his coffee, pretending Sam’s words have no merit. “Did you know people make a career of this kind of stuff? I believe it’s called ‘acting’.”  
  
“Oh give me a break, Dean. You can’t act for shit. I can’t speak for Castiel, but I know it wasn’t an act on your part. And I know you’re scared to let yourself fall because you’ve been hurt in the past, but it’s okay to admit it. It’s okay to say you love him.”  
  
Dean sighs, turning his entire body to face Sam. “Okay fine. I did develop some feelings for the guy. He just… It felt different with Cas. And yeah, a part of me wished really fucking hard that maybe we could get a real chance. But that was stupid to think.”  
  
Sam smiles sadly at him. “No it’s not, and it’s not too late. Call him. Go after him. _Do something_.”  
  
He snorts. “I thought you hated him.”  
  
Sam shrugs. “I kind of do at the moment but I want you to be happy. And if he makes you happy, then I’ll drag him back here myself. Bobby and I might rough him up a bit, but people are capable of being forgiven. At the very least, you deserve a better goodbye than what he gave you.”  
  
“So I’m guessing Charlie told you about the note?” Dean asks slowly and Sam nods.  
  
“What did you expect?”  
  
Dean shakes his head, muttering “damn her” under his breath before returning his attention back to Sam. “Thanks, Sammy, but I’ll pass. I may have felt something for him then, but it’s over now. I don’t want him back.”  
  
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. So are you going to book your flight home or am I?”  
  
“You know I don’t fly. And I told you, I’m not going after him,” Dean says, starting to feel on edge with this whole conversation. Why can’t people just leave him be? Why do they insist on setting him up just to be torn down once again? His blood is starting to boil and he’s tired of being reminded he wasn’t enough to begin with.  
  
“Dean-“  
  
“The son of bitch wanted to leave, so let him! I’m done, Sam! I’m done with him and I’m tired of being in the middle of this whole fucking mess. His problems are no longer mine. And just so we’re clear, I don’t love him and I never did.” And there he is, spitting out the third and final decision he came to as he stared off into the blackness of his ceiling.  
  
This was the decision that took the longest to come up with because he felt so much pain and betrayal and hollowness after Cas left. No one experiences that about just anyone, right? He did admit his feelings to Charlie, but he also denied being in love with Cas. Even as he said it last night though, there was a bitter taste in his mouth and a voice that kept whispering ‘are you sure?’ to him. It whispered to him all night until he finally made up his mind about it.  
  
Besides, after establishing the ‘no feelings allowed anymore’ rule, this one only felt natural to follow. It’s better to accept this rather than the alternative.  
  
Sam stays quiet while Dean lets out a deep breath to calm himself again. “I may have started falling for him - that much I’ll admit - but I do not love him. So please… Just leave it alone.”  
  
Sam frowns, looking away from him. “I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
He shakes his head because Sammy should not be apologizing to him. Sam has every right to be furious and Dean wants him to be. “Shouldn’t it still be me saying sorry?”  
  
Sam smiles tiredly at him, nudging him with his shoulder. “Let’s just both agree that we need a beach vacation soon. No drama.”  
  
Dean returns the smile and nudges him back. “Sounds good to me.”  
  


*****

  
Dean says his goodbyes the gorgeous house and the lake once the remnants of the wedding are cleaned up and packed away. He’s gonna miss this place, but he’s also hopeful they’ll return soon. They may never stay at here again, but Dean’s perfectly content with admiring the house from afar like he’s done for so many years before.

He spends his drive back to Lawrence going through the different scenarios of confronting John in his head, but all he can picture is the two of them screaming at each other and each scene ending with Dean stomping out the door like he did over two years ago, John yelling at him to not bother coming back.

But maybe that won’t be the case, at least that’s what Dean’s hoping for. He needs to know he isn’t poisonous. He needs to know that anyone that’s ever been important to him won’t just up and leave out of his life. Because his track record thus far hasn’t been very reassuring.

The couple hours back home is over way too quick and he knows it’s now or never. He can’t leave without at least trying, but it doesn’t stop him from stalling as much as he can. Dean takes his time unloading his trunk of table clothes and vases and picture frames and even longer to head into town to return the rental tuxes for Sam.

When he gets back, everyone is inside having a late lunch of sandwiches and Dean denies the offer of food when he walks into the kitchen.

“Dean Winchester not hungry? That’s gotta be a first,” Jess remarks.

He chuckles, sitting at the table. “Yeah yeah. So where’re you guys shipping off to for the honeymoon again?”

“Italy. It was a pretty easy decision for us, actually. Jess is dying for good food and I’m excited to see the art and museums,” Sam says.

Charlie snorts a laugh. “You’re such a nerd, Sam.”

“You’re one to talk!” he shoots back and Dean laughs at the exchange. He’s grateful no one else has brought up last night. Seeing everyone this morning wasn’t as awkward as he anticipated. Sam mentioned this morning already talking to Jess about it, so he’s guessing them plus Charlie must’ve filled Jo and Ellen and Bobby in, because all he got from them were sympathetic looks and too friendly smiles.

“Well, I know you two are gonna have fun. I expect you to smuggle me back some Italian booze though,” Dean says.

“We’ll try our best, Dean,” Jess snorts.

“If you idjits get arrested, I ain’t bailing you out of jail,” Bobby grumps, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Ellen rolls her eyes. “Of course we will. They’ll have to put up with the three of us.” She gestures between herself, Bobby and John – who’s been unsurprisingly quiet all day.

“Hopefully we won’t have to worry about that,” Sam says, grimacing.

Everyone prolongs lunch as much as they can but Dean has a long, lonely drive back home and it can’t be dragged out any more if he wants to make it back before midnight and get some decent sleep before work in the morning.

Right. Work.

His stomach twists at the mere thought and he quickly shoves it out of his mind for now. He’ll deal with that later.

Dean starts the depressing round of hugs. God, he really hates this part. The first is a quick but firm one from Bobby. “I’m sorry about yesterday, boy. You’ll find someone soon enough though.”

“Thanks, Bobby. I’m sure I will,” Dean says although he has trouble believing himself. “And for God’s sake, put a damn ring on it, will ya?” Dean says in exasperation and Bobby huffs, muttering under his breath which makes Dean snicker. That’s the next wedding he’ll be looking forward to.

The next hug is a sweet one from Ellen accompanied by stern words. “Don’t be a stranger. Call more often, will ya? Or else I’m marching to Chicago just to kick your -“

“Okay okay! I promise!” Dean says, holding his hands out in front of him defensively and Ellen nods curtly, but a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

“Good.”

His next hug is gentle and warm from Jo, giving him nostalgia of his childhood and he’s hopeful this means they’ll stay in touch while he’s gone. “Hey, you should send me pictures of your restoration. I kinda miss the shop sometimes and I’d love to see what’s going on.”

Jo smiles brightly. “Yeah, definitely! Those were some good times when the three of us worked in the shop together.”

Dean grins at the memories - him, Sam and Jo having lunch together at the weathered, wooden picnic table that could honestly collapse at any moment – though it never did - surrounded by old, rusty cars and random parts with oil and grease and dirt smudged onto their clothes. They would joke and laugh and play poker in the hot summer sun. Even farther back, when they were really little, they’d run around the maze of cars and play hide-and-go-seek, not having a care in the world.

“Yeah. Maybe you can tag along with Sam or Charlie next time they come to Chicago,” Dean offers and Jo nods.

“I’d love to.”

After Jo, he has a long, tight hug with Charlie that actually produces an ache in his chest. He swears Charlie could write a book about him with how well she knows him. She always seems to know what to do in any situation and he needs that more than anything right now. “I’ll visit in two weeks, okay?” she murmurs into his chest.

Dean shakes his head, still keeping his arms locked around her. “Nah, you don’t have to do that, Charlie. I’ll be fine.”

Charlie snorts, prying herself from Dean’s grip. “Speak for yourself. Do you know how much it sucks that your best friend is hours away? So you’re just gonna have to put up with me popping in for a weekend. For my sake.”

Dean rolls his eyes but a smile lifts the corner of his mouth anyway. “Fine. Listen, I didn’t exactly get a chance to tell you yesterday, but I’m happy for you and Jo. I think you’re good for each other.”

She blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Dean. She really does make me happy.”

He ruffles her hair playfully accompanied with a teasing ‘aww’ and she bats his hand away, the playful smile on her lips turning sad before she goes in for another hug, whispering to him, “I’m just a phone call away if you need to talk. Please, don’t let yourself brush this off. It’s okay to be upset.”

Dean sighs, giving her one more squeeze before releasing her. “Don’t worry. I’ll call if I have an emotional break down. But I can promise you that’s not going to happen.”

Charlie punches him arm gently. “I’ll see you soon, you stubborn dork.”

Dean snorts, looking away to search for Sam but sees him and Jess are preoccupied with hugging Bobby and Ellen. Besides them, all who’s left to say goodbye to is his dad. Guess this is his cue. Dean takes a deep breath before approaching John, who’s watching him cautiously.

“Uh, hey Dad.”

John nods to him. “Dean.”

“Can I talk to you in the living room?”

John hesitates but nods, following Dean to the next room over, which’ll hopefully prevent the others from hearing too much of their conversation. “So -“ Dean starts but John cuts him off.

“If you’re expecting an apology, you’re going to be disappointed.”

A bout of annoyance to flares up in him and he sighs in frustration. This isn’t going to go well. “I wasn’t going to ask for one, but hell, you do owe me one, Dad.”

“I was trying to protect you. I wasn’t going to stand by and let you ruin your life for one guy. It wasn’t worth it and you needed someone to make you understand that. I’m not going to apologize for looking after my son.”

John’s stern but even tone only fuels Dean’s frustration because it makes him feel like a child. He’s a grown ass adult and he doesn’t need to be looked after. He’s considered himself independent for as long as he could remember. John wasn’t the one keeping the household from falling apart. It was Dean. So for him to think he has an ounce of say in Dean’s life? Well, that’s a joke if he’s ever heard one.

“Maybe that’s what you wanted to do, but did it occur to you to go about it a different way? Maybe instead of criticizing me and targeting Cas, you could’ve talked to me without the all judgement,” Dean growls.

John scowls. “Like you would’ve listened. You boys just do the opposite of what I say.”

Dean crosses his arms, hands clenched into fists against his ribs. “No, we’re just tired of being controlled. Admit it Dad, ever since I decided to go my own way and do what I want to do, you’ve looked for any reason to say it wouldn’t work. When I left the shop to go to college, when I left home to go to Chicago, when I brought Cas home and he wasn’t Jo. As long as it’s not what you want, I’m just one big disappointment to you. Do you think Mom would like this? The way you’re treating her sons?”

John’s face hardens at the mention of Mary. “I could say the same to you, Dean. Do you think she would be proud to know her son was going to commit fraud to better your career? That’s not someone she’d be proud of. If she were here, you would’ve broken her heart.”

Dean winces at that. The last thing he’d want to do is disappoint his mother. But she would’ve known… She would’ve known Dean’s feelings and understood why he didn’t call it off, wouldn’t she? But Dean doesn’t back down. He refuses to let this fall on his shoulders.

“And you think Mom would be proud of you now? Look at us – the three of us haven’t had a dinner together that didn’t result in a fight in _years_. If you’re not pissed at Sam, you’re pissed at me. You’re so fucking angry at the world, it doesn’t matter who you take it out on, even if it’s your own family. So believe me when I say you would’ve broken it long before I did,” he spews out, tone hard and cold and John’s stone mask finally falters. He opens his mouth to retort but closes it again, face twisting in pain and sadness as he looks away.

“You’re right.”

Dean frowns, guilt creeping into his mind. Dammit, maybe that was too far. He didn’t want to hurt his dad, just make him understand.

He sighs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean - I’m sorry.”

John shakes his head, still avoiding Dean’s gaze. “No, you’re right. The way I’ve acted ever since that November night… She was the love of my life and I’m lost without her,” John takes a breath, throat bobbing as he swallows, “But that’s no excuse. She wouldn’t have wanted this.”

Sadness wells up inside Dean and he remembers something - something that’s been sitting in his pocket ever since he found it several days ago. He fishes out the gold band from his jeans and holds it in between his thumb and pointer finger, the small engravings on the inside that reads _I love you, John Winchester_ reflecting the soft light streaming through the windows.

“That’s why you gave this back to her,” Dean murmurs, keeping his eyes on the ring. John glances up, eyes widening when he sees it perched in Dean’s hand.

“H-How did you find that?”

Dean closes his hand around it, looking up at John. “Sam and I visited her Thursday. I found it by the headstone.” John doesn’t say anything so Dean adds, “You didn’t feel right keeping this anymore. You thought you failed her, so you gave it back.”

John doesn’t say anything at first and Dean knows he got it, or it’s pretty damn close. A sigh finally snakes out of John mouth. “I know your mother would be upset with me. Every day, I’d read that engraving and relive that night all over again. I loved your mother very much and…” John pauses, eyes becoming glassy, “You’re right. I didn’t deserve the ring anymore. I've broken the promise we made to each other. I wanted her to have it so that she can know how sorry I am, that maybe she can forgive me someday.”

Dean swallows the lump that starts to choke him and he steps forward to press the ring into John’s hand. “Take it, Dad. She’d want you to have it.”

John stares at it like it might disintegrate in his hand before he gingerly slides it back on his finger, looking up at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’ve… I’ve failed as a father. I know that. You didn’t deserve me taking out my anger on you all these years. You grew up faster than you should have with taking care of Sammy, and that wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve been there more for you and Sam.”

Dean hesitates but wraps his arms firmly around John, his vision going blurry because that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear. Even though he has no reason to trust John, the apology is sincere. He’s never spoken about their mother like that, never truly told them just how affected he is by Mary’s death. Sure, it wasn’t hard to piece together with his drinking and quiet sobs at night when he thought no one was listening, but he’s never broken down in front of them. Not like this. Dean vaguely wonders if it’s a Winchester trait – not being able to talk about this touchy feely stuff very easily.

“It’ll be okay, Dad. We… We’ll work on it.” He doesn’t want to completely accept John’s apology yet, but it’s a damn good start.

John hugs him back tightly before releasing him, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I’m… I’m going to try to be better for you and Sam. You boys are all I’ve got and I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“We’re not going anywhere, Dad,” Sam says from the doorway and they both turn to see everyone peering in from behind Sam.

A smile barely touches Dean’s mouth and he motions for him to join them. John wraps his arms around the both of them and holds them close, none of them needing to say anything. Dean could think a million thoughts of how awkward this is, but he doesn’t. He can’t remember the last time the three of them hugged like this; two sons and their dad. They’ve always just been that broken family held together by duct tape.

But not anymore. They’ve ripped off the duct tape and are stitching themselves back together so those fractured lines can finally heal.

They break apart before it can actually get awkward and just like that, the tension in the air is gone, replaced with, for lack of better term, family. And Dean likes how it feels. It’s hopeful. It’s warm. It’s the promise of second chances.

Sadly, he can’t stay to bask in the warmth, as much as he’d like to. It’s time to go.

Dean says his final goodbyes to John before getting his last two hugs from Jess and his brother. Jess gives him a small peck on the cheek and a sweet smile.

“Thank you for everything, Dean. We’ll visit as soon as we get back from Italy.”

Dean returns her smile, still feeling emotional from the conversation with his dad. “You better. And you make sure to take good care of Sammy.”

Jess snorts, eyes glittering. “You know I will.”

The final hug goes to his brother and it’s the one he’s been dreading. Dean wraps his arms tightly around Sam because damn, he’s going to miss him so fucking much.

This trip’s only reminded Dean how much he misses being close to Sam, even though they talk on a regular basis. Despite living apart for quite some time now, he still can’t get over not seeing Sam every day. Being there to make him dinner and playing pranks on each other and wrestling to settle disagreements over stupid shit. Sam’s always been the one constant in his life – the one that kept Dean going, kept him motivated to try for his little brother – and it doesn’t matter how long they’ve lived apart now. It’s still hard saying goodbye now as it was when Sam first left. He’ll never get used it.

Perhaps someday they can be in the same state again, or at least not with practically the whole country between them.

“Congrats again, man. And have fun in Italy. I know you’re gonna dork out like never before,” Dean tells him and Sam snorts, shoving Dean playfully.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

They chuckle at the familiar exchange and Sam’s smile softens. “Hey, don’t be afraid to go after him. It’s not too late, you know.”

Dean rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore him. “Let me know when you wanna take that beach vacation. I’ll be waiting.”

Sam sighs, giving Dean one more hug before everyone shuffles outside to their respective cars. Apart from the obvious disaster, it’s been a fun week. But now it’s time to return to the mundane.

Dean starts up the Impala, her growls breaking the peaceful quiet of his old neighborhood and he backs out of the driveway, giving one more wave to everyone before he’s disappearing down the street.

It’s funny. On the way here, he dreaded those fifteen miles it took to get from the highway to the Lawrence. Now, he drives in silence with the exception of Baby’s engine purring and says goodbye to each mile gone. Because every mile away from home is a mile closer to a life to doesn’t want to deal with right now.

A life where Castiel won’t be waiting for him at work with a scowl every morning. A life where his family is hours out of his reach. A life where he may not be entirely alone, but his car is empty and there’s that hollowness inside him again.

When he merges onto the expressway, he steels himself with the reminder of his first decision when he catches his mind slipping to a place he refuses to let it go. Hopefully he’ll adjust quickly enough to the point where he won’t need reminders. It’ll just happen automatically. And maybe eventually, Castiel will only be a distant memory. A faded scar that's hard to see unless you're looking for it.

The silence is suddenly too much to bear anymore and Dean pops in a cassette at random, cranking up the volume and rolling his window down to let the cool air rush inside.

And he keeps his eyes forward, focused on the dark clouds that lay ahead of him and reciting his third conclusion in his head on repeat.

_I don’t love Castiel Novak_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close, folks  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna preface this chapter by saying two things: 
> 
> One- When I first came up with the idea for this fic, I wanted to deviate from the movie in my own way. I kept some of the elements of the au, but I also wanted to put a twist on the cookie cutter rom com ending that most people expect (as much as I love the movie for that reason!). But from the beginning, I intended to create my own ending that didn't mirror the movie (but don't worry! **There's still one more chapter after this one!** )
> 
> Two- Think Purgatory.

The wind presses up against the underside of Dean’s umbrella, attempting to yank it out of his grasp but he manages to hold onto it tight with one hand. If he wasn’t clutching this stupid coffee, he’d be able to get a steady hold on the umbrella with two hands. But alas, caffeine wins over everything on a shitty Monday morning. Besides, he was soaked within a minute of stepping outside and that was before one of his hands was claimed, so really, not getting coffee would've been a worthless sacrifice.  
  
Maybe he should’ve listened to Charlie’s text message this morning that suggested he take the day off. From the long week and all. He could’ve opted to stay home in his dark, dry apartment and binged watched _Dr. Sexy MD_ and it could’ve been a nice day. Unfortunately, Dean doesn’t live in a world where nice things just happen. He knew if he stayed at home all day, his mind would wander freely and that’s not allowed to happen.  
  
No, work was his best distraction.  
  
Finally, he’s able to duck into his building and escape the typhoon rampaging outside. He shakes the water off his umbrella and folds it up, situating himself and comfortably holding the two coffee cups in both hands. He’s surprised he didn’t spill them on his fight through the storm and crowds of people shoving past each other to seek refuge at their destination.  
  
He really should just throw the second coffee out because it’s pointless to have now. But he’s been going to that café for as long as he’s lived here and that flirty barista knows Dean’s order by heart, which, nine times out of ten, involved two coffees. So as a welcome back, she had both hot beverages made ready to go for him, probably anticipating he’d be running late his first day back to work like he normally is. He wanted to correct her then but didn’t have the heart to tell her he’ll no longer need two coffees every morning. He’ll tell her tomorrow though.  
  
He rides the elevator up to his floor, thankful for its slowness for once, and tries to gather himself. Maybe people don’t know about the situation yet. Well, they’ll know Cas is gone by his office - which is probably empty by now - but maybe he’ll be spared the embarrassment of his co-workers knowing he and Cas almost committed fraud to keep him here. Maybe they’ll all just think they broke up and that’s it.  
  
When Dean steps out of the elevator and puts on his best fake smile to greet the receptionist, her sad smile back to him is an indicator of what he should anticipate today. It only gets worse as he walks through the maze of cubicles, avoiding the pitiful glances and politely accepting the timid ‘Welcome back, Dean’s despite the unpleasant churn of his stomach. It’s barely 8:30 in the morning on a Monday and it seems news has already spread like wildfire throughout the office. These people thrive on drama, particularly Dean’s drama.  
  
But that’s not even that part that ticks him off. It’s all the goddamn pity that he can never seem to avoid. Apparently it doesn’t matter what day of the week it is or what’s happened. Dean can’t avoid the pity.  
  
When he finally reaches his desk, he refuses to let himself look up at the office - the one he dreaded going into every morning. It’s not because it’d set anything off in him. He just doesn’t want to feed people’s pity by staring at his door like a longing teenage girl and -  
  
“Welcome back, Dean!” Balthazar’s voice greets him loudly, nearly making him drop both coffees. “Got a little rained on, I see?”  
  
Dean smirks, making a point to set the cups down before lifting his messenger bag over his head and setting the soggy thing on the ground. “Just a little. It’s nice to see you too. What’s new around here?”  
  
Balthazar’s quietness makes Dean look up at him and his chipper façade melts, leaving that sad smile on his face. “Well, word’s gotten out about you and Castiel…”  
  
Dean snorts, leaning over to busy his hands with logging into his computer and unpacking the many folders of paperwork from his bag, avoiding sitting in his chair as long as he can so it doesn’t get cold and damp from his wet clothes.  
  
“Yeah? Tell me everything.”  
  
“Oh, good morning, Dean! It’s great to have you back,” Anna’s voice sounds besides them before Balthazar can answer and she adds a little quieter, “I didn’t think you would be in today.”  
  
Dean straightens up, glancing at her. “Hey, Anna. Uh, why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
Anna shares a look with Balthazar before saying, “You know… There’s been some rumors about you and Castiel and, well, everyone would’ve understood if you needed the day off.”  
  
Dean sighs inwardly. Rumors are never a good thing. They’re always far from the truth, or at least an extreme variation of it. He’s not exactly eager to hear what obscene things people have said about them. Maybe, if circumstances had been different, he’d love to hear them. But he hates all these reminders when he wants nothing more than to forget.  
  
He clears his throat awkwardly. “What kind of rumors?”  
  
“They’re silly, Dean. You’d laugh at them,” Balthazar says and while Dean appreciates him trying to consider his feelings, he wants to deal with the elephant in the room and decide what excuse he needs to come up with so he and Castiel can be old news already. As of right now, he’s not up for the telling the truth.  
  
“I’m always in the market for a laugh,” he says with a shrug.  
  
Balthazar sighs. “Rumor has it Castiel blackmailed you into a fake marriage so he wouldn’t be deported and a private investigator exposed the both of you this weekend. It’s silly, right?”  
  
Dean stares at him, stunned into silence. He wasn’t expecting the _actual truth_ to be the ‘rumor’. Who else, besides his family and Zachariah, would know about their sham engagement?  
  
The only person in his family Dean would suspect rat him out would be John, but there’s no way. When he found out the truth, he was at the wedding or the local motel when it was over. He still has an ancient flip phone that barely takes pictures and didn’t have access to the internet to even look up the number to call the entire time there. And he was too busy helping with unloading the cars to go start up his old as dirt computer and find a number before they talked things through. Dean firmly believes John wouldn’t pull that shit after their talk.  
  
That leaves only one other possibility. Did Zachariah tell Metatron? Metatron’s an interesting guy, sure, but Dean doesn’t see him spreading gossip by the watercooler. Besides, it wouldn’t be very good publicity for the company. Who’d want to work with a firm whose top project manager attempted fraud? Not the smartest move on his part.  
  
So who the hell is left to kiss and tell?  
  
Anna and Balthazar are staring at him for confirmation and he realizes he hasn’t reacted at all yet, so he forces a chuckle. “That’s pretty creative. Who came up with that one?”  
  
“Bartholomew’s been telling everyone,” Anna whispers to him.  
  
An uneasy feeling settles in Dean’s stomach at the name. He _was_ the one to tip off Zachariah when Cas first announced they were engaged, so it's not a complete surprise the guy's been running his mouth. More than that though, Cas never liked Bartholomew. They were always toe to toe and Dean wouldn’t put it past him to really make sure Cas’ reputation was trashed even after he’s gone. What a piece of shit.  
  
“He sure does have an active imagination, doesn’t he?” Dean muses but Anna and Balthazar still look doubtful. It is a heavy rumor after all and Dean’s joking is probably only making it worse, so he sighs.  
  
“Fine. If everyone must know the truth, Cas mentioned needing to move back to Canada but he never told me why. My whole life is here though and I wanted to stay. So we broke up.”  
  
They both relax - though their eyebrows raise when Dean says 'Cas' instead of 'Castiel' - and Dean’s actually impressed with his cover story. It just vague enough to not be a complete lie, but covers all his bases. Just enough to satisfy the curiosity that’s itching at his co-workers.  
  
He glances down at the two coffees still waiting on his desk and picks up what would’ve been Cas’ coffee, offering it to them.  
  
“Either one of you want this? The barista made me two by accident.”  
  
Balthazar’s hand shoots out and grabs it, instantly taking a sip with an audible – and rather disturbing - _mmm_. A second later, Dean catches Bartholomew walking through the cubicles and his penetrating gaze falls on him from across the room, not hiding the surprise on his face. He wipes it clean though as he ambles over to the three of them.  
  
“Good morning. Having a little chat to start off our Monday, are we?”  
  
“Not anymore, sir,” Balthazar mutters, spinning around in his swivel chair and rolling himself back to his computer and Anna nods awkwardly to him before returning to her desk as well. But Dean doesn’t submit to this asshole. He holds his gaze carefully. Okay, maybe it’s a little challenging too.  
  
“Glad to see you’re back, Dean. Although, I’m quite surprised to see you here today. I heard this weekend didn’t go very well for you and Castiel. If you need the day off, that’s more than acceptable.”  
  
The urge to punch him flares up in Dean. Besides the fact that Bartholomew has always rubbed him the wrong way, he really has no beef with him. Cas was the one who constantly bitched about him and didn’t seem to trust him one bit. Dean was indifferent towards him, except for now. Out of nowhere, he despises this guy, that sly smile making him sick.  
  
And what’s even more incredible than the sudden switch in his opinion of Bartholomew is with the recent events that have unfolded this past week, Dean hardly thinks he should even want to stick up for Castiel. The dude probably deserves every bad word said about him.  
  
Except that he doesn’t. And Dean won’t stand for it.  
  
He gives Bartholomew an easy smile. “Did you now? Because a little birdie told me you’ve been telling people what happened on my behalf. Although I would’ve preferred to tell people myself, thank you for taking that off my shoulders. But no, I’m perfectly fine to work today.”  
  
While Bartholomew’s plastic smile doesn’t move, his eyes darken now that Dean’s exposed his fake façade. He probably didn’t expect Dean to call him out on his shit so bluntly, and it’s insanely satisfying.  
  
“Mr. Winchester, you must be mistaken. I’ve only heard speculation of what happened. Regardless, I do give my condolences. It’s rather unfortunate your relationship with Castiel wasn’t strong enough to last. You both had a sort of -” he pauses, considering his words, “- _passion_ between the two of you. It’s a shame that flame couldn’t survive. But I’m sure you both will find your own paths. Castiel is certainly talented and he should have no problem starting anew in a Canadian firm.”  
  
Dean’s hands clench into fists at his side because he can’t believe the bullshit spewing out of this guy’s mouth. His jaw clenches with the mocking grin falling from his face. Bartholomew can’t seriously believe Dean would buy this crap - these blatant lies. He can’t even uphold his own mask because it pisses him off so much.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll make damn sure he never sees the inside of a firm again, you son of a bitch,” Dean growls just low enough for Bartholomew to hear, a dangerous heat coiling under his skin and he swears he might just let a fist fly.  
  
That stiff smile widens sickeningly across Bartholomew’s face and Dean hates that he just gave him the satisfaction of getting under his skin. He went right where Bartholomew wanted him to go. Completely cornered himself. Fuck.  
  
“Be careful, Dean. Now that your ex 'fiancé' is gone, you’re my assistant now. Castiel may have tolerated your insubordination, but I won’t stand for it. So I suggest you watch your mouth if you know what’s good for you.” His voice is low and threatening in a way that sends shivers down Dean’s spine. And not the good kind.  
  
Well, isn’t this fantastic. Now he has to answer to this creepy dick wad. Fucking wonderful.  
  
Dean straightens himself up, replacing his apple pie smile once again because he refuses to let Bartholomew get even more of a rise out of him than he already has. “Of course, sir. That was out of line of me to say. What would you like me to do first?”  
  
Bartholomew’s eyes shine with triumph before he goes down the long laundry list of tasks Dean needs to complete - all of which involve Castiel’s unfinished work. Dean nods and sits down at his desk, turning to his computer and rolling his eyes to himself.  
  
“Oh, and Dean? Metatron wants to have a meeting with you at one o’clock. Don’t be late,” Bartholomew tells him before sauntering back to his office. Dean has to withhold from flipping the bird to his back.  
  
He sighs, deflating in his chair now that he’s alone. He wonders if this job is even worth it anymore. He has a funny feeling Bartholomew will make working under Castiel seem like a walk in the park. But nonetheless, Dean gets to work on the large stack of paperwork and phone calls and everything else under the sun.  
  
He works all morning with little interruption from anyone. People have been weary of him, but he still feels their eyes boring into him whenever they glance over, their whispering not so subtle. This is like fucking high school all over again. He tries to best to ignore it- to ignore everything.  
  
“Hey, we’re going to brave the storm and go out for lunch. Are you joining us?” Anna asks, pulling her coat tight around her body and hitching her purse high on her shoulder with Balthazar next to her doing up the buttons of his rain coat.  
  
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to work through my lunch today. Bartholomew’s got me up to my elbows in crap that needs to be done by the end of the day. Sorry guys.”  
  
“Aw, come on. Who cares about him? You need a break, Dean,” Balthazar pouts.  
  
Dean waves them off with a sigh. “I’ll go tomorrow. I just… can’t today.”  
  
Anna nods sympathetically and pats his shoulder. “We’ll bring you back something, okay?”  
  
He flashes a grateful smile to her. “I’d like that.” He watches them go before turning back to his computer and rubbing his protesting eyes. He didn’t sleep much once again last night and the brightness of the screen is hell to look at.  
  
A loud buzzing vibrates against his desk from his phone with an incoming call beside him and he glances down at it. He doesn’t recognize the number and vaguely wonders if it’s Sam calling from a different phone because he’s lost in Italy or something. Unlikely, but he’ll accept the distraction.  
  
He grabs it, thumb flicking across the screen to answer. “Hello?”  
  
“Dean, I’m glad I was able to get a hold of you!” Dean’s blood turns cold at the voice that’s a little too happy to hear him.  
  
“Zach.” The name comes out colder than he intends, but he won’t apologize for the clipped tone.  
  
“Not much for greetings, I see,” Zachariah sniffs.  
  
“Forgive me if I’m not thrilled to be hearing from you again. What do you want?” Dean snaps at him. This whole thing is supposed to be over. The end. Done. So why is Zach calling him up now?  
  
“Ah, is someone a little unhappy with Castiel coming clean?” The tenor of his voice isn’t exactly mocking, like he’s genuinely confused by Dean’s reaction but it still pisses Dean off.  
  
He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. Would he get arrested if he hung up on a private investigator? “Cas wanted to tell the truth, so that’s on him.”  
  
“Well, let me tell ya, Dean, you sure gave one hell of a performance. Almost had me believing you. But alas, the truth always comes out.”  
  
A weary thought creeps into Dean’s mind and he straightens up in his chair. “Am I in trouble?”  
  
Since they didn’t exactly spill the beans when Zachariah gave them the opportunity, does that mean Dean’s going to be prosecuted? He hadn’t considered that. This whole thing could’ve been for nothing and he’ll still go to jail and -  
  
“No. That’s actually why I’m calling.”  
  
A relieved sigh slips between Dean’s lips and he relaxes again. “Oh. So then what’s going on?”  
  
“I wanted to inform you - in case you were worried - that because Castiel decided to go quietly, you will not be held accountable for your part in this. You’re a free man, Dean Winchester. Although, you almost weren’t.”  
  
Dean stiffens again at the last part. “What do you mean?”  
  
There’s shuffling on the other end, as if Zachariah’s adjusting in his chair and Dean can imagine the smug bastard putting his feet up on his desk. “Well, since you technically didn’t confess when I gave you the chance, I should’ve taken you in. You were lying this whole time. But Castiel appealed to me. He said he’d be willing to make a confession if I allowed you to go scot-free. I didn’t want to deal with the paperwork anyway.”  
  
Dean is speechless. Cas... protected him?  
  
He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out raspier than he intends. “So… what happens to Cas now?”  
  
Zachariah hums. “Oh, I believe his flight to Canada is around three, so you can officially celebrate then. And that’ll be that. He won’t be able to step one foot over the border under he can reapply for another visa. After this little incident though, it might be awhile.”  
  
Dean swallows around the lump that’s formed in his throat. The urge to run to airport right now and stop Cas from getting on a plane is making him restless and itching to leave.  
  
He could… He should…  
  
“Thank you for letting me know, Zach. Uh, is that all, I guess?”  
  
A chuckle. “Yes, Dean, that’s all. Have a good life.” And then the line goes dead.  
  
It takes Dean a moment to snap out of it and set the phone down. Even then, he stares at it, tracing his fingertip around the edges and debating whether he should call Charlie or Sam. He just doesn’t know what to make of any of this.  
  
He puffs out a frustrated breath, shaking his head and shoving the phone away from his grasp, dragging his attention back to his work.  
  
He can’t call them because if he does, they’re just going to tell him to run after Cas. He can’t do that though. He has to ignore this feeling inside him because it’s not real. It’s just the guilt of knowing Cas stuck up for him even as he’s being kicked out of the country. Dean quickly reminds himself of his most important conclusion.  
  
_I don’t love Castiel Novak_.  
  
He gets back to work, repeating the phrase in his head until the words don’t even seem like words anymore. Before he knows it, a notification on his computer chimes to remind him that his meeting with Metatron is in five minutes.  
  
Good. He needs a distraction.  
  
He gathers his most important documents and folders. He has no idea what Metatron could possible want to talk about, besides the obvious, but he brings whatever he thinks will be needed.  
  
Dean traverses through the cubicles and to Metatron’s office, knocking softly before hearing him sing for Dean to enter. When he opens the door, Dean’s greeted with the familiar classical music and – surprise, surprise - Bartholomew is seated right beside Metatron’s desk.  
  
“Dean! Welcome back!” Metatron flashes that toothy grin, to which Dean nods politely in return.  
  
“Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back.”  
  
Metatron waves him over eagerly. “Come, come sit! We have important things to discuss.”  
  
Dean shuts the door behind him and sits wearily in front of the desk, only sparing a glance at Bartholomew who has that irritating fake smile on his face again. God, this bastard makes it hard to _not_ want to hit him.  
  
“So, what did you want to see me for?” Dean asks hesitantly, settling his attention back on Metatron.  
  
“I wanted to speak with you for a couple reasons. First off, to let you know how sorry I am about you and Castiel. It’s a real shame. I always enjoy a good love story. Though it’s the ones with heartbreak that are the most intriguing.”  
  
Dean stares disbelieving at him and the creepy grin pulling at his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach. Well, it’s nice to know the founder of the company is taking pleasure in his romantic misfortunes. If they were real misfortunes, that is.  
  
“Well, um, thanks?”  
  
Metatron nods before turning his attention to some papers on his desk. “And I know you must be upset over the whole spiel, but I have some great news for you. I think you’re going to be very happy.”  
  
Dean glances over at Bartholomew, whose smile has slid off his face for once, giving Metatron a confused look. “Oh, lay it on me then.” He shouldn’t talk so laxly to Metatron, but seeing Bartholomew’s reaction made him too giddy to contain it. Thankfully, the man just laughs.  
  
“When Castiel left, there was an issue of deciding who would take care of his clients and existing projects. And there was the whole other matter of the Talbot Project. Ms. Talbot’s agent has communicated that she has a firm request in wanting two different project managers to choose from for the job. With Castiel leaving, I was almost in a situation that would leave our prospective client unhappy. However, before Castiel left, he submitted his final presentation to me, complete with the design proposal for the project. He accredited both the sketches and the pitch to you, Dean.”  
  
Dean’s mouth drops open, the air getting tripped up in his throat. Wait… What? Cas gave Metatron all his work? But how? He left them to Dean and then, well, he shredded a couple of them.  
  
“Uh, h-how exactly was that?” he stammers out, feeling like an idiot but he can barely comprehend the situation.  
  
“He emailed them to me and I’m thrilled he did. I’m very impressed! I was starting to worry that Castiel’s presentation wasn’t going as smooth as I hoped, but it appears he was just cooking up something extraordinary. I think your vision will go over very well with Bela and her agent. And, should they choose your design, you’ll head the entire project.”  
  
Nothing, not even air, is able to escape Dean’s throat and he glances over to see Bartholomew looking as shocked as ever.  
  
“Now Metatron, if I may, we’ve discussed that since Castiel’s leave, Dean would be my assistant. Wouldn’t it be better if it was me who took on the project? Dean doesn’t have experience handing his own client. I don’t think it’s wise to entrust him with a client as imperative as Ms. Talbot.”  
  
Bartholomew’s voice, as much as he’s trying to remain calm, is nothing but desperate trying to reason with Metatron. Based on the smug smile from earlier, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting this. He probably assumed the Talbot Project would be defaulted to him since the only other candidate for the job is being forced to leave the country.  
  
“He’s worked under Castiel for two years. He’s more than qualified to handle…” and their voices just fade into the background. They stop making sense as Dean gets wrapped up in his whirling thoughts.  
  
He’s still trying to process what Metatron’s told him, but more importantly, what _Cas_ did for him. That son of a bitch not only saved him from jail and giving every last dime he had to the government, but he also gave Dean a career.  
  
But he left Dean his sketches? Did he somehow know Dean wouldn’t submit them? Did he predict Dean would shred half of them once he found out Castiel left him and scanned them just in case? It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about any of this makes sense.  
  
Dean’s accelerating pulse throbs in his ears and his lungs can’t seem to get enough air and there’s an ache in his chest that spreads throughout his body.  
  
When it finally hits him, it hits him hard. He knows exactly what he needs to do. He needs to race to the airport like a fucking manic because he’s done with it all. He’s done being an idiot living in fear and denial.  
  
He loves Castiel Novak.  
  
That four letter word always scared the shit out of him. So much so he’s never said it to anyone else before. And at one point, it was downright laughable that it would ever be used in the same sentence as _Castiel Novak_. But it’s the truth. He loves Cas so fucking much, it’s choking him to finally admit it.  
  
Which is why he needs to become every stereotypical chick flick he’s ever been ‘forced’ to watch. He needs to get to the airport because he cannot sit on his ass while the man - no, the _angel_ \- he fell hard for gets thrown out of the country.  
  
“I-I’m sorry,” Dean interrupts an arguing Metatron and Bartholomew while standing abruptly, “I… I gotta go.”  
  
“Dean? Where are you going?” Metatron asks as Dean stumbles backwards towards the door.  
  
“I’m sorry. Thank you for the offer, but I have to go.” He hesitates, not sure what else to say before slipping out of the office and speed walking back to his desk. He does a quick search on flights and finds one that departs at 3:15 this afternoon. If what Zachariah told him is accurate, that’s gotta be Cas’ flight. Unfortunately, it’s full so he can’t buy a ticket. He’ll just have to improvise.  
  
He throws on his coat and digs out his wallet from his bag, stuffing it in his pocket before grabbing his phone and hurrying out of the office. He doesn’t even care that he’s abandoning work. It’s barely a passing thought in his mind that he’s leaving unexcused, not to mention that he left Metatron’s office without permission.  
  
He punches the elevator button repeatedly until it finally arrives and pushes past all the people getting off.  
  
“Dean? Where are you going?” he hears Anna’s confused voice ask from the hallway but he doesn’t turn to meet her gaze.  
  
“Sorry Anna. Can’t talk. Gotta go,” he says breathlessly, pressing the button that closes the doors and impatiently rides it down to the lobby. He’s in a race with time he can’t afford to lose.  
  
It’s still pouring when he sprints out of the revolving doors but he barely notices. After several minutes of failure, he manages to snag a cab and climbs in soaking wet.  
  
“O’Hare airport, please. And I’m kind of in a hurry,” Dean tells the driver, who just rolls his eyes and grumbles to himself as they pull away. Dean fumbles his phone out from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, grateful that it’s been spared of water damage. He scrolls through his contacts, finger hovering over the name _Castiel Novak_ before tapping it and bringing the phone to his ear.  
  
His heart is pounding in his chest because what if Cas picks up? Or what if Cas doesn’t? Or what if -  
  
“ _The number you’ve reached is no longer in service-_ “  
  
Dean growls quietly in frustration and hangs up. Of course the number would be deactivated. If Cas can’t live here anymore, it wouldn’t make sense for him to stay under an American phone plan. Guess he won’t know Cas’ reaction until he gets there. If he makes it, that is.  
  
He stares out the window, anxiety building in his stomach. This goddamn driver is going agonizingly slow. Dean wouldn’t put it past him to be doing it on purpose, given he’s currently waterlogged in his backseat and probably looks like some sort of psychopath.  
  
Dean needs a distraction.  
  
He unlocks his phone again and dials the next best number. Perhaps this will calm him down at least for the rest of the car ride.  
  
“Hey Dean! What’s up?” Charlies voice greets him cheerily, accompanied by the telltale keyboard clicking that signifies she’s at work.  
  
“I’m doing it, Charlie,” Dean tells her without prelude.  
  
“Um, what?” Her furious typing quiets in her confusion.  
  
He groans inwardly, feeling way too vulnerable saying it out loud. “I’m on my way to the airport. I’m… I’m going after Cas.”  
  
He can perfectly picture the smile that’s beaming across her face right now, but he can tell she’s trying not to make a big deal out of it for his sake. “That’s great, Dean! I knew you wouldn’t give up.”  
  
She pauses, as if waiting for him to respond but he’s not sure what else to say. He just wanted to have her on the phone with him because she always knows how to put his mind at ease. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” she asks slowly when he says nothing.  
  
He heaves a sigh. “No… Maybe. I don’t know. What if he’s gone by the time I get there? What if I miss my chance? What if I get there and he doesn’t want me? I just don’t know if I can handle that…”  
  
“The great thing about you doing this is one way or another, you’re going to get your answer. I know it’s scary putting yourself out there, but after today, you’ll know. You’ll know that you at least tried. But honestly Dean, I seriously doubt the man’s going to turn you down. I’ve watch you two all weekend and he loves you. He left because he thought he was protecting you.”  
  
Dean nods slowly, cautiously believing her. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”  
  
“I’m always right,” she says smugly and her typing resumes in the background. “What made you change your mind anyway?”  
  
He glances out the window, grateful that signs indicating the airport terminals are starting to appear. “Uh, I’m flying _Air Canada_ , by the way,” Dean tells the driver before returning his attention back to Charlie. “I guess a bunch of things. I decided to pull my head out of my ass and just go for it because I... I love him, Charlie.”  
  
"Oh, Dean, I know you do," Charlie's voice is soft and warm and it actually calms him for a brief moment.  
  
The driver pulls up to the curb, barely putting the car in park before Dean tosses two soaked twenties at him, not caring if it's way over his fare or not and jumps out into the rain once more. “I’m at the airport now. I’ll call you later, Charlie.”  
  
“Okay. Good luck, Dean! Whatever you do, don’t look back,” she tells him before hanging up.  
  
He makes his way inside and goes to the check-in counter, buying the cheapest ticket that’ll land him in the same terminal as Cas’ before power walking it to security. But of course, the line is a mile long.  
  
He checks the time, dismayed to see the flight leaves in an hour, meaning Dean probably has thirty minutes at best to get to the terminal before Cas boards the plane. There’s no way they’d let some sopping wet, crazed guy on the plane just to profess his love. Well, not without getting detained immediately afterwards. Besides, Dean wants nothing to do with the plane. Being in the airport alone is already making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, let alone actually stepping inside that metal death trap.  
  
God he hates airports.  
  
Gradually, the line inches forward but it’s just not fast enough. Everyone is moving too sluggish for his taste and his patience is wearing thin. He nervously shifts from foot to foot but busies his mind with what he should say. So far, he has nothing.  
  
How does he even begin? Does he just blurt everything out? Does he ease into it? Does he scold Cas for leaving him in the first place? Does he dramatically throw himself in Cas’ arms just to put the cherry on top of this classic rom com airport scene?  
  
His mind is spinning by the time he reaches the front of the line and once he clears the scanners, he slides on his shoes and tucks his wallet back into his pocket. He glances at his phone, cursing under his breath to see it’s twenty minutes before departure. He takes off running down the concourse, dodging around people and their suitcases and praying that Cas is one of the last groups to board.  
  
Please, _please_ just let him be the last group to board.  
  
He finally spots the gate number and sprints to it, eyes locking on a familiar trench coat and tousled, dark hair.  
  
“Cas!” he calls breathlessly.  
  
Those shoulders stiffen, Cas freezing midway through handing his ticket over to the attendant to scan and turns to look at Dean just as he stops right before him, panting and ignoring the bewildered stares around him.  
  
“Dean? What are you -“  
  
“Cas, I need to talk to you,” he gasps, hunched over and leaning his palms against his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Jesus fuck, he can’t remember the last time he ran like that.  
  
Castiel looks doubtfully down at his ticket before stepping out of line and pulling Dean by his arm to the side for relative privacy. “Dean, what the hell are you doing here? And why are you wet?” he growls.  
  
Dean straightens up, taken aback by Cas’ coldness. Every instinct tells him to run, that this was all a huge mistake. He shouldn’t have come because, clearly, Castiel isn’t happy to see him.  
  
_Whatever you do, don’t look back_.  
  
Charlie’s words ring in his head and he squares his shoulders. Castiel is going to stand here and listen to every damn word he has to say, whether he likes it or not.  
  
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Dean spits out and for a moment, he wonders if that was really the best way to start this conversation. He doesn’t care though. Anger and desperation have a way with words.  
  
“I’ve heard. You ran all the way here just to tell me that?” Cas says dryly.  
  
“No, I ran here because I deserve answers. You owe me answers, Cas.”  
  
Wariness creeps into Cas’ blue eyes, jaw tight but he nods once. “Alright. What answers would you like?”  
  
Dean takes a deep breath, his lungs finally filling themselves correctly to even out his breathing, but now his heart is racing for different reasons. “Why did you leave?”  
  
"Did you not read the note?"  
  
"That note was bullshit and you know it. So I'll ask you again: why did you leave?"  
  
A wave of conflicting emotions crosses Cas’ face until they settle back on the business-like mask he usually wears. The one Dean’s come to recognize as his way of shutting out the world. His way of protecting himself.  
  
“The consequences became too great. Our business arrangement wasn’t worth the risk anymore.”  
  
There’s a stab in Dean’s heart at the icy words. Castiel didn’t think he was worth it anymore. Well, Dean had already concluded that, but it still hurts hearing it float directly from the source. But Dean knew this wouldn’t be easy, so he presses on.  
  
“Fine. Then why did you clear my name with Zachariah? Why did you submit my design to Metatron for me?”  
  
The surprise is evident on Cas’ face and Dean finally feels like he has the upper hand. “You… weren’t supposed to know about that,” he mutters.  
  
“Well, I do. So tell me, Cas, for a guy who thinks I’m some ditch-able prom date, why did you do all of that for me?”  
  
Castiel is quiet for a moment, eyes flickering away from Dean’s. “I didn’t realize you’d even care.”  
  
Dean laughs dryly. “Of course I care, Cas! I…” he hesitates, his stomach twisting into a knot. He gently grabs Cas’ chin and turns it to where their eyes are locked on each other’s again. “I’m not the one who left. Like I said I wouldn’t.”  
  
Castiel studies Dean’s face, the impersonal mask melting away to where all that’s left is a pained expression, eyes dulled with defeat. “I don’t know what you want from me, Dean. This was never supposed to be more than a professional arrangement. I’ve held up my end, what more could you possibly want?”  
  
Dean releases his chin, resisting all urges just to kiss him silly to make him see. As much as he wants to, it would solve nothing. Cas is a walking time bomb right now and Dean needs to go about this carefully. But does Cas really believe Dean has no feelings towards him? Does he really think Dean is just looking to further his career? He just ran through an airport for fuck’s sake.  
  
Dean swallows nervously, his throat constricting with the words that bubble there. He needs to say it. There will be no turning back, but he needs to say it.  
  
“Stay. We can work something out. But you can’t leave. I don’t where along the way things changed for me, but they did. Maybe… Maybe it was when we had our first kiss. Maybe it was when we were in that strip club. Maybe it was when we danced to that cheesy ass song or when you showed me your wings. I don’t know. But I do know that it became more than that damn deal we had. And now, I… I need you, Cas.” He can’t help the way his voice breaks when he says Cas’ name.  
  
This is probably the most he’s ever admitted his feelings, and it’s scary as hell. He chickens out saying the ‘L’ word because Cas can still reject him. He still wants to protect that last little vulnerable bit of his heart until he knows Cas will stay.  
  
Cas’ eyebrows knit together at the words, eyes conflicted as he shakes his head sadly.  
  
“You don’t mean that, Dean…”  
  
“Of course I do, Cas. I’m standing here, aren’t I?”  
  
Castiel’s about to say something more when the attendant announces the final boarding call. He glances over his shoulder, eyes lingering as if deciding something before turning back to Dean.  
  
“You can’t save everyone, Dean, as much as you try.”  
  
Dean’s heart sinks in his chest, a cold dread gripping him harshly, the claws digging into his skin.  
  
Rejection.  
  
It hurts even worse than when Cas left the first time. It hurts worse than John saying Castiel was gone. It hurts worse than finding that note folded neatly on the bed, waiting patiently for him to read it. Worse than holding those dried, wilted flowers and letting them slip from his fingers and into the trash. Than sleeping alone in a bed that normally would've just been any other bed, but now was cold and no matter how tight he pulled at the blankets, they simply wrapped him deeper into loneliness.  
  
It just fucking hurts.  
  
Castiel moves his hand, as if he’s about to reach out to Dean but stops himself, arm dropping stiffly back at his side with his hand clenched into a fist.  
  
“You’ve wasted your time coming here. I’m sorry, but I can’t. This is the end.” He holds Dean’s gaze for a moment longer before turning away and mechanically walking back to the attendant, holding his ticket out to be scanned like a well practiced maneuver.  
  
Dean stares after him, willing his legs to move but his whole body is frozen and numb. He's not even sure if he's breathing. “Please, Cas. Don’t… Don’t do this. Don’t go,” he whispers hoarsely, barely finding his voice for one last attempt to keep him here, and it breaks pitifully on the last word. He’s not even sure if Cas hears him.  
  
The woman scans his ticket and Castiel looks over his shoulder, blue eyes hardened with a fractured, cold mask that’s unsuccessful at hiding the pain exposed between the cracks. If he heard Dean, the pathetic pleas go ignored.  
  
“Goodbye, Dean.”  
  
And then he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahh I'm sorry for all the angst! I hope you guys don't hate me too much <3  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, we all knew this day would come. This is the last chapter of Imperfect Proposals. This fic has been something I've worked on and off for over a year now, and I can't believe I'm actually posting the final chapter?? I always told myself I wanted to finish it, but I guess I just never really thought what that meant. Kinda thought it'd just float off into the void and never be a completed fic. And posting that first chapter, I was nervous as hell. This fic had become something very close and dear to my heart, and all from watching the movie one night and spontaneously deciding I needed to write my own DeanCas au of it. I never anticipated it'd be something I'd grow so attached to. Which is why when it came time to post chapter 1, I hoped so hard that it would be received well.
> 
> Which leads me to say this: _Thank you so much_ to everyone who has supported me and this fic. I seriously cannot say it enough because you have no idea what it means to me. I love all the comments you guys leave and that fuzzy, happy feeling when I see a new comment/message never grows dull. You are all so amazing, and I just really appreciate you guys sticking with me on this journey. ~~I'm not gonna cry shut up~~

**Three Months Later**  
  
Castiel checks his watch for the hundredth time, sighing impatiently when it reads 6:30. Gabriel was supposed to meet him at 6:00 for dinner. He’s thirty minutes late and Castiel is starving. Besides, people are starting to give him pitiful looks for continuing to turn the waiter away, promising someone else is joining him soon.  
  
He takes a small sip of his water before dialing up his brother’s number.  
  
“Cool your jets, Cassie. I’m five minutes away,” Gabriel answers.  
  
“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” he reminds him dryly.  
  
“I can’t be blamed. I was, uh, _busy_ …”  
  
Castiel groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You always seem _busy_ nowadays.”  
  
Gabriel chuckles. “What can I say, Castiel? I give the ladies and gentlemen what they want. Anyways, I’ll be there soon.”  
  
Castiel hangs up, feeling his skin crawl uncomfortably. He wishes his brother would just pick someone to settle down with already because frankly, it’s getting old walking in their house and finding his brother in positions he wishes he could bleach out of his mind forever.  
  
Castiel picks up a menu for the second time to browse his options while he waits. Mostly to busy himself from noticing the sympathetic glances thrown his way. No doubt people are thinking he got stood up for a date. His eyes flit over the pages, stopping to rest on a particular section.  
  
Originally, he'd thought a chicken sandwich was what he was in the mood for, but a burger sounds heavenly right now. Although, he hasn’t had a burger that’s satisfied him in months.  
  
He can’t decide if it’s good or bad that he experienced such an amazing burger in Lawrence. Perhaps it’s good because it opened his eyes to what he was missing out on - that an honest to God perfect burger exists in the world. The bad is that he knows he’ll never have it again. He’s tasted perfection and now nothing else seems to compare, but he hungers for it constantly.  
  
He knows it’s out there, though.  
  
It begs the question - is it better to experience the profound once and never have it again or to have never experienced it at all? At the moment, he’d rather have the latter because he really, _really_ wants a burger and that one from Lawrence has quite possibly ruined any chances of him enjoying another again.  
  
It’s quite tragic, actually.  
  
A familiar bout of laughter colors the air from across the patio area of the restaurant just then. Too familiar. Castiel glances up over the top of the menu and his stomach drops.  
  
_Dean_.  
  
Castiel immediately sinks lower in his seat and holds the menu higher to cover his face, heart racing. _Shit_ , what is Dean doing here all the way in Vancouver? How is he, of all the places he could be in the world, eating at the same restaurant as Castiel?  
  
He sneaks a peak from around the menu to study the scene more, curiosity getting the better of him.  
  
Dean’s not alone. In fact, it appears everyone is here - John, Ellen, Bobby, Jo and Charlie, Sam and Jess and a burly guy Castiel doesn’t recognize. What could they all be here for?  
  
“Are we playing hide and seek?” Gabriel’s voice makes him jump and he rips his eyes away from Dean and his family to stare up at his brother, forcing himself to relax.  
  
“Um, no. I was just…” Castiel stumbles over his words. He doesn’t want to point out Dean to Gabriel because who knows what he’ll do. Gabriel has a tendency to embarrass him and Castiel’s not looking forward to moving to another planet at the moment. “There was a wasp,” he lies, reluctantly sitting up straighter in his chair.  
  
Gabriel snorts, sitting across from him and grabbing the other menu. “I thought you liked bees.”  
  
Castiel huffs. “I do like bees, but wasps are entirely different. Bees won’t harm you unless you bother them and besides they’re too busy pollenating flow-“  
  
“Whoa okay sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Gabriel cuts him off quickly, making a face to himself as he looks over his menu.  
  
“You didn’t -“ Castiel stops himself. He doesn’t want to bicker with Gabriel about bees. Not when he’s too anxious about the man sitting across the way from him. Thankfully, Dean is turned sideways to him so as long as he doesn’t look to his right, Castiel should be able to escape unnoticed.  
  
Although, he can’t deny the small part of him that’s hoping Dean will just glance over and see him…  
  
“Uh, Cas?” Gabriel says slowly and Castiel meets his gaze. “You okay?”  
  
He forces a smile on his face and nods. “Yes, of course. Um, do you know what you want?”  
  
Gabriel’s gaze lingers on him suspiciously for another moment before nodding. “I heard the steak tacos here are orgasmic. Been wanting to try them for a while now.”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes at the adjective Gabriel decided to use but he’s grinning all the same. He’s grateful for his mending relationship with Gabriel.  
  
At first, it was a bit awkward between them when they both moved back home – which Castiel was surprised to discover they still even had their childhood home. But apparently, Gabriel’s been using it as a home base to return to in between adventures so it kept up relative maintenance throughout the years Castiel’s been gone.  
  
Castiel didn’t talk to Gabriel much the first two weeks he was home. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, really. But Gabriel never stopped trying during that time. He would bring Castiel a sandwich if he hadn’t eaten all day and didn’t complain when he’d check in later only to see a few bites were taken out of it. He’d plop down next to him on the couch and quietly watch whatever Castiel was watching, never pushing him to talk. When Castiel mentioned once that he had an interview with a firm, Gabriel came home with a couple of his old suits dry cleaned since Castiel didn’t bother to do anything with them before leaving.  
  
Gabriel was being the brother Castiel needed. Once he realized that, Castiel decided to make an effort back. He started talking again. He ate whatever weird concoction of food Gabriel made for him and invited Gabriel to watch movies or a new TV show with him. And, eventually, Castiel let Gabriel drag him out to the real world – going on walks, grabbing dinner and a drink, and sometimes he’d even tag along with Gabriel and his friends.  
  
Castiel is glad he and Gabriel could be brothers again, even during the times they get annoyed with each other or threaten to smother the other with a pillow in their sleep.  
  
The rest of the meal, Castiel tries to keep Gabriel talking - which really isn’t too difficult- while he picks at his chicken sandwich. He decided last minute not to order the burger.  
  
The entire time though, he can’t help glancing over Gabriel’s shoulder towards Dean’s table. Castiel studies them all, trying to stifle the fuzzy feeling that fills him when they all burst into laughter, when Sam take Jess’ hand in his under the table and he feeds her fries, when Charlie gestures animatedly as she tells some story that’s probably just an average story but because it’s Charlie, it’s a whole adventure, and most of all, when Dean’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at his family’s happiness, looking completely at ease.  
  
“Castiel!” Gabriel says loudly, causing him to jerk his attention back his brother, who’s staring at him with raised eyebrows. “What’s up with you? For someone who was so upset about me being late, you’ve been checking out on me ever since I got here.”  
  
Castiel nervously flicks his eyes back to Dean’s table, going numb when he finds vivid green eyes staring directly at him. He drops his gaze immediately and grabs his napkin just so he can busy his hands, feeling his face start to burn.  
  
“Um, sorry. There’s just someone here that I know, that’s all.”  
  
“Oh, like _know_ know?” Gabriel says seductively and Castiel scoffs.  
  
“I suppose. But we don’t talk anymore, so please don’t –" The scraping of a chair on the stone patio makes Castiel snap his head up to see Gabriel twisted all the way around in his chair.  
  
“Which one, Cassie?”  
  
“Gabriel!” Castiel hisses, kicking his shin under the table and causing Gabriel to yelp in surprise.  
  
“Hey! What the hell was that for?” He turns back around, reaching down to rub his leg dramatically all the while glaring at him.  
  
“I don’t want any more attention drawn to me than you’ve already done,” Castiel growls.  
  
Gabe smirks, picking up his mojito to take a drink. “Sorry little bro. I didn’t mean to _embarrass_ you. But seriously, who is it? I didn’t even know you’ve been seeing people since you got here.”  
  
Castiel glances back to Dean, but he’s not looking at him anymore. He seems to be focused on the group again, though the smile he was wearing only minutes before isn’t the same. It looks forced and Castiel hates himself for putting a damper on Dean’s evening. He didn’t want this to happen. He wanted Dean to be happy.  
  
He sighs, slumping back in his chair. “I haven’t. It’s… It’s Dean.”  
  
Gabriel’s eyes widen. “ _Dean?_ As in ‘run through the airport-fraudulent engagement gone wrong’ Dean?”  
  
Castiel groans. He should’ve never told Gabriel about that airport scene. “Yes. He’s sitting behind you - and if you’re going to look, don’t make it obvious _please_.”  
  
Gabriel nods, casually stretching in a way that isn’t so casual, and looks over his shoulder before turning back around, a wide smile on his face. “Wow Cassie, I can see why you picked him to blackmail. He’s a fine specimen.”  
  
Castiel cringes. “That’s not why I picked him. He was just there and - why am I even telling you this? I don’t want to discuss it.”  
  
Gabriel leans back in his seat, his teasing smile softening. “So I was right. You do love him.”  
  
Castiel snorts at that. Ever since he moved in with Gabriel roughly three months ago and finally started letting him in, Gabe seemed to be on a mission to prove Castiel fell in love with Dean. And even though it took until Dean was standing in front of him spiky haired, damp clothes and all in the airport for Castiel to admit it to himself, there’s no way he would tell Gabriel. Because then Gabriel would somehow find a way to make Castiel run back to Dean, to beg him to take him back. And he just couldn’t do that. Dean deserves better than him.  
  
“No I don’t. I mean, it’s complicated,” he sighs, shaking his head. “He hates me, Gabriel. It’s bad enough I’ve ruined his life as it is. Even if I did love him - and that’s a big if- I’m no good for him.”  
  
Gabriel sips at his mojito, considering his words. “Maybe you should talk to him. See how he’s doing at least. Because if the first couple weeks of you being home has told me anything, it’s that you’re just gonna sulk around the house while you pine over him.”  
  
Castiel narrows his eyes at his brother. He did not _sulk_. He can’t help but glance over at Dean and a sense of longing fills his chest, so strong it hums in his rib cage. Okay, maybe he sulked a little bit. And maybe he still is.  
  
He frowns, tearing his eyes away from Dean for the millionth time. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”  
  
Gabriel shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. But I say you just go do it. You need closure, Castiel, and this could be your only chance.”  
  
He sighs, knowing Gabe is right. Above anything, he should at least apologize to Dean for everything he’s done. But he can’t do it in front of Dean’s family. Castiel fears their anger and disappointment more than Dean’s. “I guess you’re right.”  
  
Gabriel’s smile returns brightly to his face. “I know.”  
  
Movement out of the corner of his eye catches Castiel’s attention and he sees everyone at Dean’s table stand, collecting their left over boxes and making their way back into the main restaurant to exit out the front. Everyone except Dean, that is, who’s still at the table looking over the bill. Of course Dean would pay for everyone, being the selfless wonder he is.  
  
This is his cue. This is the universe giving Castiel one last chance at righting his wrongs. Even so, his heart is racing and his stomach keeps knotting and unknotting itself. But he needs to do this because the regret will be insufferable if he lets Dean go again. If he doesn’t try to apologize for the hurt he’s caused.  
  
“You don’t have to wait up for me. I’ll see you back at home,” Castiel says to Gabriel, who smiles encouragingly at him.  
  
“Good luck, little bro. Bonus points if you get laid tonight!”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes but brushes the comment off. He’ll be lucky if he gets five minutes. After everything he’s done, Castiel doesn’t deserve to even think about the pleasure of Dean’s body with Dean _right there_ in front of him. He downs the remainder of his beer in hopes it’ll calm his nerves and gets to his feet.  
  
It like he’s walking in slow motion, every step seeming to take a great effort and too long to make. Still, before he even knows what he’s going to say, he’s suddenly standing in front of Dean.  
  
“Hello, Dean.” He hopes his voice isn’t as shaky as he thinks it is.  
  
Dean stiffens, arm pausing in his writing before dragging his eyes to meet Castiel’s.  
  
“Oh, hey Cas.”  
  
Castiel tries not to let the distant tone of Dean’s voice get to him, but he can’t help the overwhelming urge to sprint as far away as possible.  
  
He swallows nervously. “Um, it’s nice to see you again.”  
  
A scowl barely distorts Dean’s face as he nods once, returning his attention to signing off on the bill and tucking it back in the sleeve of the check holder along with the pen. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.”  
  
The polite formality of the statement isn’t any more encouraging. It’s the thing people say to each other when they could care less or have nothing of deeper intent to share. Words that hold no meaning other than to stave off an awkward encounter or end an unwanted conversation before it starts.  
  
Castiel glances over his shoulder at Gabriel, who is, of course, twisted around in his chair in the most obvious manner possible and flashes him a smile and a thumbs up. Castiel withholds a groan and looks back to Dean.  
  
“So, uh, I’m surprised to see you here. What brings you to Vancouver?”  
  
Dean eyes flash with something along the lines of defensiveness and he stands roughly, sending the chair scraping noisily against the stone. “You know, you don’t own Canada, Cas. Not that it’s any of your business, but Ellen and Bobby tied the knot yesterday. Ellen’s always wanted to visit Canada, so they brought us all here for a small wedding.”  
  
Castiel winces at the cold tone, Dean’s icy words digging into him but he can’t run away now. That’s what Dean expects him to do, and when has he ever stood down from a challenge with Dean Winchester?  
  
“That sounds great. I’m sure the ceremony was beautiful,” Castiel says with a small smile that’s only a little bit forced. He truly is happy for Ellen and Bobby and he wishes he could’ve been there to celebrate with them, or to at least see how many times Sam and Dean tease Bobby to where he just rolls his eyes at them while calling them both idjits.  
  
Dean grunts, picking up his beer and downing the rest, clearly uninterested in carrying the conversation further. Castiel sighs. “Dean, I never said I owned Canada. I have no problem with you being here. I just wanted to… I don’t know, talk to you or something.”  
  
Dean chuckles dryly, setting the empty bottle back on the table. “Oh, so now you want to talk? You know, you’ve got some nerve thinking you could just waltz over here and demand my attention. But I don’t answer to you anymore, so you can take whatever the hell you want to say to me and shove it up your ass.”  
  
Dammit, this isn’t going well at all. What was Castiel thinking? Dean hates him, this much is apparent. Why is he still even standing here, letting Dean rip apart his heart and then burning the pieces. But Castiel can’t make himself walk away again.  
  
He loves Dean. So much that it’s absolutely terrifying because Castiel’s never felt so strongly about another person like this before. But Dean is the one person he can’t have. The one person he shouldn’t love.  
  
As fine as Castiel is with Dean taking his anger out on him - he deserves every bit of his rage - he won’t stand here and take it without fighting for his chance. Because he loves Dean enough to want to make things right, however too late it might be for any of that.  
  
“Five minutes. All I ask is five minutes and if after that you still loathe me, then so be it. I know you think I don’t deserve that much, but I need you to know how sorry I am, Dean. Please, just five minutes.”  
  
Dean stares at him, conflicting emotions warring in those darkened green eyes and Castiel holds the gaze. Castiel’s not even sure how long they stand there like that until someone clears their throat beside them.  
  
“Hey Chief, everythin’ okay?” a smooth, southern drawl asks and they both break the eye contact to look at the source. It’s the burly man Castiel didn’t recognize earlier who was sitting next to Dean. He’s a gruff looking man - a strong build and scruffy facial hair all tied together with a newsboy cap on his head. To anyone else, he might seem intimidating, but Castiel’s not intimidated in the slightest.  
  
“Yeah Benny, everything’s fine,” Dean sighs.  
  
The man - Benny - shifts his gaze from Dean to Castiel, the concern in his eyes melting to a narrowed, untrusting glare. “You must be Castiel,” he says coolly.  
  
Well, it’s safe to say Dean’s talked about him. Castiel nods curtly in response, returning the glare steadily. “Yes, I am. I don’t recall ever hearing about you though.”  
  
Benny smirks. “You wouldn’t have considering you were gone.”  
  
Castiel’s skin prickles at his words and a thought crosses his mind. Were Benny and Dean… together? How long in those three months did it take for Dean to meet Benny? The thought makes Castiel sick and if he didn’t want a hole in the earth to open up and swallow him before, he certainly wants it to now.  
  
Before Castiel can reply, Dean speaks up. “Sorry Benny, I…” Dean trails off, glancing back to Castiel as if deciding something and then shakes his head, looking frustrated. “I’ll catch a cab and meet you guys back at the house.”  
  
Benny frowns, seeming unsatisfied with Dean’s decision and Castiel quirks the corner of his mouth smugly at him. “Alright. You call if you need anythin’, okay?”  
  
Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah.”  
  
Benny casts one last cold look at Castiel before turning and leaving the patio area.  
  
The smug smile Castiel wore for Benny melts off and he releases a small, relieved breath. “Thank you, Dean.”  
  
He doesn’t spare a glance at Castiel as he pushes past him to follow where Benny left only a moment ago. “Five minutes. That’s it.”  
  
Castiel follows after him until they’re standing in front of the restaurant and thankfully, Benny and the rest of Dean’s family are nowhere to be seen. Castiel glances up at the sky, noting the sunset that was painted across the sky when they were eating has darkened considerably to the early signs of night, the stars starting to emerge.  
  
“Your five minutes starts now,” Dean says abruptly.  
  
Castiel frowns, taking a look around them. They’re just on the outskirts of the city, so despite it being considerably less crowded here, there’s still the distraction of traffic and people walking along the sidewalks. Castiel won’t be able to think right clearly where they are now and he needs privacy for the talk he wants to have.  
  
“We can’t talk here, Dean.”  
  
He huffs impatiently in response, throwing his hands up. “Then where would you like to go?”  
  
Castiel glances down the street. There’s a park a couple blocks away that should be relatively empty now that it’s getting dark. Whenever his father was too drunk to function properly, Michael would take Castiel and Gabriel to the park to play in the open grass and climb the sturdy trees. Even after their father’s disappearance and Gabriel exiting the picture soon after, he and Michael would still spend time in the park, to just escape life for an hour or two. For Castiel, it was always the most peaceful spot in town, a place he went to feel at ease.  
  
“Follow me. I know a nice spot nearby.”  
  
Dean grumbles under his breath and as an afterthought, Castiel adds, “And my five minutes doesn’t start until we get there.”  
  
A smirk lifts the corner of Dean’s mouth. “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to negotiate, Cas.”  
  
Castiel shrugs and begins walking, hoping Dean follows. “Well, I am. It’s not far, I promise.” He glances over his shoulder but is surprised to see Dean’s right next to him, matching his stride.  
  
“You know, you haven’t changed one bit. Still as demanding as you were then,” Dean says.  
  
“And you’re still trying to test my patience,” Castiel shoots back, although a small smile plays on his lips. He’s missed this. The banter, the back and forth, the way him and Dean just _were_. The way how, despite all that, Dean still gave him butterflies that tickled him and filled him with warmth he never knew he was capable of experiencing.  
  
He’s just missed _Dean_.  
  
“To be fair, it’s not exactly a hard task to accomplish. Still, it was one of my favorite pass times,” Dean replies easily.  
  
Castiel bites his lip gently to stop his smile from growing. He can’t get too relaxed yet. “How’ve you been, Dean?”  
  
He shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”  
  
Castiel hesitates to bring it up, but curiosity gets the better of him. “I imagine a decision regarding Bela has been made by now. Did Metatron let you take the lead in the project?”  
  
Dean doesn’t answer and Castiel looks at him, eyebrows furrowing. He’d find it hard to believe if Metatron didn’t give the project to Dean. Metatron’s enthusiastic response to Castiel’s email containing his presentation as well as Dean’s drawings was telling enough. Castiel would’ve been shocked if Dean didn’t get signed on for the Talbot Project. Metatron may be a strange man, but he likes what he likes. And he liked Dean.  
  
“Dean?”  
  
Dean meets his gaze, expression still unreadable. “Yeah, he gave the entire project over to me after we met with Bela and her agent. She was impressed with my vision.”  
  
The look on Dean’s face says otherwise though, and Castiel’s beyond confused. “So what’s the problem? Isn’t this a good thing?”  
  
Dean snickers under his breath, looking away. “I quit, Cas.”  
  
Castiel stops dead in his tracks, staring after Dean who’s still walking. “You what?”  
  
Dean stops, turning around to face him. “I quit. Going on two months now.”  
  
Castiel stares disbelieving at him. “But… why? Why would you do that? You could’ve finally gotten your name out there. You could’ve succeeded in your first solo project. Do you know how many clients would seek you out when they saw your name on Bela’s house?”  
  
Dean smirks and continues walking again, leaving Castiel no option other than to catch up though Dean still doesn’t offer any answers. “Dean, you’ve worked your ass off for this moment. Do you know how many architects would kill for a project like that? Why the hell did you throw it away?”  
  
“Because, Cas, I couldn’t stay there anymore. That piece of scum Bartholomew was making my life a living hell,” he says with a hint of annoyance, but then adds quieter, “It’s not like I earned it myself anyway.”  
  
“Of course you did! Bela had a choice, and she chose you. Metatron chose you.”  
  
“Because of you! They gave me a chance because of what you said. Without you sponsoring me like I was Katniss friggin’ Everdeen, there’s no way I would’ve gotten the project!”  
  
Castiel quickly runs through his mind, trying to pinpoint Dean’s reference but he shakes his head. He’ll have to look it up later. It’s beside the point anyway. “That’s not true. You’re talented and they would’ve chosen you even if I hadn’t put in a good word for you. It was only a matter of time.”  
  
Dean throws his hands up impatiently, voice heightened with anger. “What does it matter, Cas? You didn’t choose me, so what was the fucking point?”  
  
Castiel frowns, side glancing at Dean to see him rubbing a hand down his face, regret for his words apparent in his movements. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Dean beats him to it.  
  
“We haven’t reached this mystery spot of yours yet, so the five minutes hasn’t started,” he mutters, wiping his face clean of emotion once again.  
  
Castiel nods slowly, unsure what to say after that. They walk in silence for a few minutes before it shatters between them from Dean’s voice. “So what about you?”  
  
“I’ve been… okay,” he lies. “I moved back in with Gabriel, so that’s been an adventure.”  
  
Dean snorts. “That the guy who was not so subtly watching us back there?”  
  
Castiel groans. “Yes.”  
  
“Seems like a nice guy,” Dean says, smirking, “So, you some big shot here now? Made the cover of _Canadian Architect_ yet?”  
  
Castiel shakes his head. “I haven’t actually been looking for work just yet. Figured I let my little scandal become old news before jumping back in.”  
  
Not exactly his decision though. After his two weeks of silence, he wanted to throw himself back into work to take his mind off everything that happened. It was during his first interview that his little business deal with Dean was brought up and it only reopened those wounds that he’d been trying to either heal or ignore since that day at the airport.  
  
Who knew architects could be so fluent in gossip?  
  
“They shouldn’t hold that against you. Isn’t that crossing some sort of line?” Dean says, sounding irritated.  
  
Castiel shrugs. “I don’t know. But I think a break was necessary.”  
  
Dean nods slowly. “I guess so. I, um, after I quit, I’ve kinda started working on starting up my own firm.”  
  
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow. Dean, that’s great. But… you have no experience in project management, let alone running a firm.”  
  
Dean snickers. “No shit, Cas. But Benny - that guy back at the restaurant – we’re helping each other out. After I quit, I moved back to Lawrence and met Benny, who was the new guy in town. He’s a contractor, so we’ve been working together to take on some smaller projects. It’s been a good set up – he’s not exactly Picasso when it comes to drawing something up for a client, but he’s good with his hands and can execute whatever I need him to. We’re a good team.”  
  
Dismay swims in Castiel’s stomach, trying not to focus on Dean mentioning Benny as being ‘good with his hands’. Fuck, Castiel hates the hot jealousy that courses through his veins knowing someone else could be giving Dean pleasure the way Castiel did that drunken night of the bachelor party. Dean making that blissed out face when he came hard and those _whimpers_ that dripped beautifully from those lips. All for someone else…  
  
“So are you two… together?” Castiel grits out, dismissing the blinding jealousy from the mere suggestion of Benny being that person for Dean now, but he still feels sick at the thought of Dean with _anyone_ other than him, at least so soon after Castiel left. Three months is soon, right?  
  
Dean looks over at him with a smirk. “Would it bother you if we were?”  
  
Castiel huffs but decides not to answer. There’s no way whatever he says would convince Dean he isn’t. It’d take too much energy to lie convincingly enough and he simply does not have that energy to spare at the moment. Instead, his eyes land on the wide open grassy space dotted with giant oak trees that are still standing tall and strong, just like they did when he was little.  
  
Castiel gestures in front of them. “This is the place.”  
  
Dean nods, straying from the sidewalk to walk through the neatly kept grass while he takes in the sight. “Looks nice.”  
  
Castiel studies Dean’s back, wishing he could spend the rest of his night walking around with Dean, but the civil conversations are over. “Does this mean my five minutes starts now?”  
  
Dean stops walking and turns to face him, jaw tight with one nod.  
  
Castiel bites his lip and his eyes wander to the ground. He thought he’d know exactly what he wanted to say by the time they got here, but he still as no idea. Where does he even start? It’s frustrating that no words are enough to come close to what he wants to say to Dean.  
  
“Tick tock, Cas.”  
  
He drags his gaze back up to Dean, who has that mask of mistrust set firmly in place. He clears his throat, deciding just to say whatever comes to mind first without thinking about it. “What did you mean earlier when you said, ‘because I didn’t choose you’?”  
  
Dean frowns, looking like he wants to deflect the question - and Castiel expects him to - but he doesn’t. “Because you left when we had a deal. And I don’t care about whatever bullshit intentions you had, you just ran. Twice. I didn’t want anything from you.”  
  
Castiel nods slowly, thinking back to the day at the airport. Dean had run after him in an attempt to make him stay. And fuck, Castiel wanted to so bad. He wanted to throw his arms around Dean and tell him how sorry he was, that everything became very real to him. His whole body just _ached_ with wanting to tell Dean how much he loved him. How no one has made him feel the way Dean does. He had to keep restraining himself from reaching out to Dean, either to pull him in for a kiss or melt against him or even just to brush his fingers against Dean’s. Dammit, he wanted to stay so bad.  
  
But he didn’t. He shoved his feelings aside because Dean deserved so much better than him. He’s done nothing but cause Dean pain he didn’t need. So as much as he wanted to melt hearing Dean say the words ‘ _I need you_ ’, he needed to let Dean go. Even if it meant hurting him one more time.  
  
In the short time Castiel caught a glimpse into who Dean Winchester really is, he’s learned one important lesson - that when Dean cares, he cares fiercely with every fiber of his being.  
  
Castiel isn’t worthy of that. Not one bit.  
  
“Fair enough,” he says simply.  
  
Dean doesn’t waste a second firing the next question. “What did you expect would come out this conversation?”  
  
Castiel sighs. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” He expects Dean to scoff or roll his eyes, but he does neither. Instead, Dean waits for a real answer, so Castiel forces himself to keep talking.  
  
“I wanted to apologize - truly apologize - for everything I’ve done. For upsetting you and hurting your family. And I know it’s a long shot at forgiveness, but I had to try, Dean.” He lowers his eyes again, feeling his throat start to close up at the emotion taking over his body. “I know you hate me, for good reason, but I care about you. I did then, I still do now.”  
  
Then the scoff Castiel was expecting finally appears. “Well shit Cas, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”  
  
Castiel rubs a hand over his face. “I was trying to protect you.”  
  
“Have you ever thought that I don’t need your protection?” And there’s the anger Castiel was anticipating. “I don’t need you to beat up bullies or hold my hand like a child.”  
  
“Dean, I didn’t mean-“  
  
“I can take care of myself!” Dean shouts.  
  
“Dammit Dean, I was protecting you from me!” Castiel yells back, staring intently at Dean through the darkness.  
  
Dean glares back at him, anger and frustration still prominent on his features but he stays quiet.  
  
Castiel runs a hand through his hair, realizing how hard he’s trembling now, and looks away in an attempt to calm himself. The silence between them is deafening and Castiel finally fills it once he knows his voice won’t shake when he speaks.  
  
“You know the kind of person I am. You know there’s void where my heart is and you know I’m not capable of real love. But you are, Dean. You deserve so much more than the shit I’ve put you through. Even if I had stayed, you would’ve woken up one day and realized the mistake you made and left and… I couldn’t watch you leave. Not you.”  
  
Castiel’s body shakes harder from his confession despite trying to tame it, his throat closing up even more and tears sting behind his eyes, threatening to spill over. He glares at the wavering ground, feeling too many things at once. He’s never felt so much emotion at one time - at least emotion he’s put on a clear display.  
  
He’s perfected the indifferent mask and the plastic smile, but standing here before the man that’s demolished the walls he spent years building, it’s just too much. It’s always so much easier when him and Dean are fighting - constantly circling and sizing each other up. At least Castiel can hide behind the game.  
  
But now Dean’s not playing. He’s not sizing Castiel up, looking for the best time to strike. He’s not spitting out venomous words or giving him anything to work with. He’s just standing there, silent as ever, eyes boring into Castiel’s soul. He’s made himself completely vulnerable to Dean, but instead of being determined to be the ‘winner’, like so often is the goal, he resigns himself. He can’t do this anymore.  
  
Castiel takes a deep breath, blinks away the tears that corrupt his vision and drags his gaze back up to Dean’s.  
  
“I guess that’s all I have to say. I hope in time you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I wish you all the happiness, Dean.” He stares at Dean, drinking in every last bit of him but not moving to leave. He’s been an idiot to follow the ‘ _leave before you get left_ ’ mentality, but not anymore. Not again.  
  
Dean watches him, troubled eyes turning apprehensive and his voice comes out gruff. “Isn’t this the part you walk away?”  
  
Castiel shakes his head. “I’ve walked away from you twice now. I won’t do it a third time.”  
  
Dean nods slowly. “Seems fair.”  
  
They stare at each other for a minute longer before Dean brushes past him and as much as Castiel commands himself not to, he grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls him back. Just as Dean’s questioning him, Castiel uses his free hand to cup Dean’s cheek and guide their lips together.  
  
There’s hesitation from Dean for a moment before he’s kissing back and it takes Castiel’s breath away. He expected a fist to his jaw or to be shoved away. Not the tender press of lips against his or Dean’s non-captive hand coming to rest against Castiel’s hip, thumb rubbing soft circles against his hipbone through his jeans.  
  
Castiel could stay like this for the rest of his life, but he knows such luxuries don’t exist. He pulls back before he breaks his own heart more than he already has and ducks his head, waiting for Dean’s anger at the stolen kiss to wash over him.  
  
A sigh escapes Dean’s lips. “Cas…”  
  
Castiel drops Dean’s wrist and bites his lip. “I’m sorry. That was wildly inappropriate and uncalled for.”  
  
Dean’s fingers slip under his chin and lift his head so that their eyes are locked together. “All that crap about you having no heart and being incapable of love is bullshit, and I think you know it.” When Castiel doesn’t answer, the corner of Dean’s mouth barely lifts in a sad smile.  
  
“I forgive you, and I certainly don’t hate you, Castiel. Even after you left, I never stopped… needing you. Which is all kinds of fucked up because all this time, I’ve been so angry and confused at how you walked away from me. I blamed you for being some soulless son of a bitch. But how I feel, it never went away as much as I wished it would.”  
  
Castiel’s mouth goes dry because he think he knows what Dean’s saying but at the same time, he can’t make any sense of it. Dean continues talking anyway so Castiel doesn’t have a chance to question it.  
  
“I was wrong though, Cas, for ever blaming any of this on you. Because it’s not you who’s unable to love, it’s me who’s just un-lovable. You can’t be blamed for not loving a person who’s impossible to love.”  
  
Dean’s words rip Castiel’s heart apart in a way that he didn’t realize was possible. He can stand for Dean hating him and blaming him for everything he’s done, but hearing Dean blame himself? To call himself _un-lovable?_ No, Castiel can’t allow such toxic thoughts to poison Dean’s mind.  
  
“Dean, that’s ridiculous. You’re one of the most loved people I know. Look at your family. I’ve never seen people care about each other more than they all do for you.”  
  
Dean laughs humorlessly. “Yeah well, there’s love and… love. Aaron, Jo… you. There’s only one thing in common between those three relationships and it’s me. That’s gotta mean something, don’t you think?”  
  
“No,” Castiel tells him fiercely, “That’s not true.”  
  
Dean smirks, eyes flickering away. “It sure feels like it.”  
  
Castiel feels the words bubbling up in his throat and as hard as he’s trying to stifle them, it’s no use. Whether finally saying them out loud does him any good or not, it doesn’t matter. Dean has to know.  
  
He reaches a hand up to caress the side of Dean’s face while turning it so that Castiel can meet Dean’s glassy eyes. His heart is racing and every instinct screams at him not to make himself so vulnerable, but he ignores the voices of doubt.  
  
“Dean…” he pauses, searching Dean’s stormy green eyes and he knows if he doesn’t say this now, he’ll regret it the rest of his life.  
  
“I’ve fallen for you, Dean Winchester. Completely and utterly. I don’t know how it happened or when but… I did. And I fell so hard and fast, I was terrified. I never thought I was able to feel such emotions but you proved me wrong. No one else has ever been able to do that for me. So don’t you dare think for one moment longer that you are un-lovable,” Castiel’s voice breaks and he swallows around the thickness in his throat. When he speaks again, he barely manages a whisper. “I love you, Dean. But I don’t deserve to love you.”  
  
A shaky breath slips between Dean’s lips and his throat bobs. “Dammit Cas…” he whispers roughly before placing a hand on either side of Castiel’s face and pulling him in for another kiss. It’s different from the one Castiel had stolen moments before. This time, there’s an overwhelming passion that grasps Castiel’s entire body, their lips moving together as if the other was their life source while hands desperately clutch at a shirt or hold the other close as if they might get ripped away from each other without a moment’s notice.  
  
It’s the kiss that they finally allow themselves to have. There’s no more acts, no more uncertainty. Just pure, raw emotion that’s been pent up inside for however long it’s been denied and repressed. It only intensifies when Castiel parts his lips and allows Dean to deepen the kiss, making Castiel’s head spin and leaves him wanting to melt against Dean and sob into his neck.  
  
For once, he truly allows himself to get lost in Dean. He’s longed for this for too long, and his confession to Dean only kicked over the remaining broken walls he pitifully tried to protect himself with.  
  
Dean’s the first to break away and although they’ve certainly shared much more heated kisses, they’re both breathless, mouths parted as they pant for air. Dean leans his forehead against Castiel’s, hands sliding down from his cheeks to rest on Castiel’s hips and pulling him closer.  
  
“What about Benny?” Castiel whispers breathlessly, suddenly remembering his concerns from earlier. He certainly doesn’t want Dean doing any of this if he was a taken man. That just wouldn’t be fair and if Castiel missed his chance with Dean, he’d rather live with that than disrupt a perfectly good relationship.  
  
A quiet chuckle tickles Castiel’s skin. “He’s just a good buddy.”  
  
Castiel’s eyebrows furrow with a frown. “But earlier?”  
  
Dean smirks. “I was trying to make you jealous. And it worked.”  
  
Castiel snorts but he can’t even bring himself to deny it. He was so incredibly jealous and even now, he still has a sour taste at the thought of Benny spending time with Dean, being there for Dean when Castiel wasn’t. “Maybe it did a little.”  
  
The corner of Dean’s mouth lifts and he pulls back just enough to study Castiel, those green eyes soft as ever.  
  
“I love you, Cas. I never stopped. And I need you. I really do. I know you think you’re bad for me and you want to protect me, but let me love you, Cas. _Please_ , just let me love you.” The smile slips from Dean’s mouth, replaced with a sort of desperation, as if Castiel might just evaporate into a mist that floats away out of Dean’s grasp.  
  
As much as he hates that now he’s put that fear in Dean, Castiel’s heart soars and he closes the space between them to press a tender kiss to Dean’s lips and Dean returns it gently. Those words mean so much to him. He’d never thought someone would say them to him, especially someone like Dean. He never thought someone would even care about losing him, let alone to fear the mere possibility of it.  
  
“Okay,” he whispers against his lips because that’s all he ever wants. He’s done cutting himself off from the love Dean wants to give him and he wants to use every minute they have giving it right back. He wants Dean to feel loved too, that he is nowhere close to being impossible to love.  
  
But despite feeling like he could extend the broken wings on his back and fly, doubt and uncertainty darken his mind.  
  
What’s next for them? There’s still the matter of them being in separate countries. And honestly, Castiel’s not too confident Dean’s family will be very welcoming to him after everything he’s put Dean through.  
  
His lips begin to quiver against Dean’s at the thought of being forced to say goodbye after everything they just went through. He can’t say goodbye. He refuses to. But what if there’s no other way?  
  
Dean pulls back enough to look into Castiel’s eyes. “I know you’re already worried this won’t be easy - and it won’t be. But it’ll be damn worth it. No one here is saying goodbye.”  
  
Castiel nods, tangling his fingers with Dean’s. “I know the last agreement we made didn’t exactly go according to plan, but I promise to put up with you as long as you put up with me. We'll make long distance work.”  
  
Dean studies him, eyes becoming troubled and worry floods fill Castiel’s chest. What if this all catching up with Dean? What if everything Dean just said was a result of an adrenaline rush and he wants to back track his words? What if -  
  
“Marry me, Cas.”  
  
Castiel blinks, his panicked thoughts screeching to a halt. Did he just hear him right? Did Dean just… propose?  
  
“W-what?”  
  
Dean bites his lip, lowering his eyes. “You heard me.”  
  
A mixture of emotions slams into Castiel and as much as he wants to scream the three letter answer, there’s one thing that’s stopping him from accepting. “But… what about your family?”  
  
Dean sighs. “I want you next to me every night. I want to make you breakfast in the mornings. I want you in my life, and not just from afar. I know they won’t be too happy with me, but I can’t lose you again, Cas.”  
  
Castiel frowns, eyes drifting away. “They must hate me. Are you sure you want to put them through that?”  
  
A chuckle escapes Dean’s throat. “They’ll be fine. The worse that could happen is Sam will play a prank or two on you to get payback or Ellen will make you wash all the tables at The Roadhouse. Dad might take some time, but he’ll come around. But back in Lawrence, they cared about you. They really did. They considered you family, Cas, and family is capable of forgiveness and being forgiven.”  
  
He doesn’t respond, not really sure what to say. It’s just scary. He doesn’t want to mess this up again. Dean’s finger guides his face back towards him so he’s staring into loving green.  
  
“I know this is a lot and I know you like having a plan but…”  
  
“We’re making it up as we go,” Castiel finishes for him and it causes a smile to ghost over Dean’s lips.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
The corner of his mouth lifts, the anxiety in his stomach evaporating. Knowing that him and Dean will be in journey together comforts him. It’s different than the last time they embarked on a journey where they were making it up as they went. Last time, it was borne out of desperation and blackmail and feelings developed along the way - feelings that were denied until they were too much to control, resulting in heartbreak for all parties involved.  
  
Now, they both know their feelings for each other. Now, when a new journey starts, there won’t be any misunderstandings about where the other is at. Neither of them has to be alone.  
  
Castiel snorts when a particular thought crosses his mind, causing Dean to quirk an eyebrow at him. “What?”  
  
He laughs under his breath. “I was remembering how our first proposal went. You made me re-do it after my simple ‘Marry me’ didn’t satisfy you. I find it ironic.”  
  
Dean chuckles. “Hey, you were an asshole then and I had to get payback somehow.”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes, but the smile on his lips grows. “I thought the goal here was me saying yes.”  
  
Dean lets go of one of Castiel’s hands to cup his face, thumb stroking down his cheek, voice softening. “Would you like me to give you a grand proposal, Cas?”  
  
Castiel leans into the touch, grinning at him with his heart feeling like it could burst with how much love it’s holding for Dean. All for Dean. “No. I’m quite fond of our imperfect proposals the way they are.”  
  
An affectionate smile graces Dean’s lips, eyes shining with warmth that transfers directly to Castiel and when he leans forward to connect their lips in delicate kiss, Castiel wants to laugh and cry at the same time.  
  
“So is that a yes?” The words are whispered against his lips.  
  
They’ve been through hell and back, thrown together and torn apart, tried and tested to the point where they were both left unraveled and raw and exposed. Piece by piece, they took each other apart. But instead of sweeping aside the undesirable parts, the flaws, they built something beautiful out of the damaged and fractured fragments, and they made each other whole again.  
  
This moment is everything Castiel ever wanted but never thought he’d get. And that’s what makes this moment so sweet, so unbelievably remarkable.  
  
No, it has not been an easy road for either of them and there are still miles and miles of road ahead of them, which is why there is not a shadow of doubt in Castiel’s mind of what his answer is.  
  
“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all so so much for reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I guess it's not _technically_ over yet because I have an epilogue written out, but this was officially the last chapter. But anyway, I love you guys and I hope you liked it ♥  
> [My Tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)  
>  **Edit: With how long the epilogue has become, I have posted it separately. Read it[here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11362821/chapters/25435581)**


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